6:20. The day begins as I reluctantly uncurl myself from my warm and welcoming sheets. I can hear my mom calling from her bedroom, for, what she   comprehend the idea of a hasty departure from my bed. When did inadequate amount of sleep become such an issue? After two minutes of outfit contemplation I settle, yet again, for another sweatshirt. As I reach for my backpack my mom yells something about breakfast, but who has time for breakfast? Racing out the door I trip and stumble over a multitude of items strewn around my messy room and I can’t help but wonder if I am really awake. The stinging eyes, the swollen brain, the sore muscles, the haggard complexion, without me telling you, I bet you know what I am talking about: a day in the life of a teenager.

7:05. I arrive at school after a cold and bumpy bus ride where I manage to close my eyes for another precious fifteen minutes. I grumble hellos to familiar faces, but otherwise I am silent. After walking the full length of the school to put away my athletic bag, I am, if possible, more tired than when I arrived. I take my usual seat in the hallway next to my equally tired friends. The conversation is typical, “It’s too early for this”, “I didn’t even finish my homework last night”, “Practice ended so late!”  I eagerly agree, recalling the hour that I arrived home the previous night, only to comb through textbooks and worksheets for much longer into the night, or should I say morning. When did our conversations become so grim and mundane?

7:30. My classes begin as I heave my much-too-heavy backpack on top my sagging shoulders and hopelessly trudge to first period. As the day crawls by, I begin to accumulate hours of homework. Projects, essays, tests, quizzes, reports, worksheets, readings, and outlines appear on my calendar. Compiling sheet after sheet, until I have enough paper to rebuild the Amazon. Let me tell you, lunch doesn’t come quickly enough.  I wolf down my food and take out my books. Forgotten homework and overdue papers are thrown haphazardly along the lunchroom tables. Students cram in the last bit of knowledge into their brains. When did lunch become about work instead of nutrition and the energizing of the mind? Bell rings. Time to get back to class. My eyes glaze over as equations, definitions, formulas, facts, dates, and fruitless knowledge flash before me. With dulled pencil tips and worn down erasers I finally end the day… of school.

2:39. The school day is over, and for that I am thankful. I hurry to the locker-room to begin again a whole new portion of learning. I ram my feet into sneakers and grab a protein bar on my way to the gym. We begin with warm-ups and my already stiff and sore muscles already start to protest. “Today’s going to be a hard one,” I hear and I think to myself, “Isn’t it always?” My legs beg for mercy as we begin our run. I’m not even sure if my lungs exist. Now, on to core as my abdomen cries out for air, but I have none to give it. My muscles are weak and stiff from sitting in a desk all day. After what feels like an eternity, the whistle blows signally the end of track practice.

5:43. I arrive home and toss my bags to the ground. My mindless legs walk over to the kitchen table where I aimlessly start to pull out assignment after assignment, sheet after sheet.  My fingers fly over the keyboard and my cramped hand spits out numbers and sentences. I am soon surrounded by paper, electronics, and the abundance of food my mother shoves towards me. Unknowingly I glance at the clock every few minutes counting down the time I have left. My hand flies even faster over my computer, either answering that last question or downloading that last file. What happened to the time we once held aside for our valued extracurriculars? I race up the stairs to change into my third outfit of the day and hop into the car where my mother awaits.

6:30. Practice has begun and I have never been this tired. My coach is talking but I only catch impotent snippets of an ill thought out speech. “Big game coming up” and “ready to go” and the worst, “practice hard today so we succeed tomorrow.” My back hunches more as I make endless amounts of passes and take countless amounts of shots. I feel like I have gelatin bones. What happened to all of my youthful energy? My lack of food and sleep is evident in my playing, as well as in my teammates. This has always angered my coach who punishes this type of playing with more physical strain.

8:27. I am home and finally in for the night. I tarry outside of my room just long enough to grab a plate of dinner and string out a few sentences with my parents. I barely see them anymore. What happened to the emphasis and importance of family? I trudge up the stairs to my room, arms laden with my backpack, homework, food, power-cords, and textbooks; these are the ingredients to a long night. My body shakes with exhaustion and my eyes flutter with fatigue. My parents come in to say goodnight, but their “good lucks” and “I’m sorrys” are drowned out by the thundering music reverberating in my ears. It feels as if the music is pumping my blood, as opposed to my heart.

1:45 a.m. My homework is somewhat complete and I am sick and tired of the work. As I go through my nightly routine of showering, packing my bag, making my lunch, and soothing my aching body, I begin to wonder what has become of our teenage society. No more are there “mindless” and “inconsequential” youths who beset our country. We have been replaced with haggard zombies with overworked and stressed brains. These are the thoughts and ideas that frequent my brain as I finally lie down to rest for the precious time I have left. The scariest thought, that haunts me even in my sleep, is the certainty of tomorrow giving way to the same struggles as today, and permeating through the lives of innocent youthful teenagers.