Depression

She opened her eyes hoping to not see the faint light of dawn coming through the windows. Hoping to steal a few more hours of sleep's bliss. The sun shown bright and strong. The clock on the night stand beamed 8:34. Her first thought: I hate my life.

Her body ached. This could be the hardest part of the day. Closing her eyes and letting sleep overtake her once again was so tempting. The patter of little feet outside her door compelled her to sit up and swing her feet off the bed. She had to do this for them.