He abruptly sits up in his bed. His clock is ticking away as he takes short, shallow breaths. His forehead has a layer of cold sweat,his heart beating like a korean drum.
The alarm goes off. He clicks on the 'Alarm Off' button. "Just in time," he thinks to himself," and not a moment too soon."
He could see the street outside his room through his blinds. Car lights filter through the dirty window, casting cold, long shadows across his ceiling. He gets off his bed and his feet automatically searches for his slippers. He hates cold floors.
The bathroom greets him as it always had each morning. His place of solitude. The man looking at him in the mirror looks oddly familiar. He goes through his daily morning routine, coming out of the bathroom ready to tackle the world.
He picks out his uniform and gets dressed. Getting his bag and shoes, he tries to leave home as quietly as possible. His family is still fast asleep. He closes the main door, and puts on his shoes. As he stands up, an iron tang in the air hurts his senses.
He looks up and sees the word "HELL" carved into the wooden door.
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