CHAPTER 5
For some god-forsaken reason, Host set the alarm for 4:30 a.m., jolting me from a sound but dreamless sleep. When I failed to send the clock crashing against the wall but helplessly watched as Host silenced the offending device, the memories of yesterday's events flooded back into my foggy brain. What I hoped had been a nightmare was not a product of sleep but a dark version of reality.
Instead of hitting the snooze button as you’re supposed to, Host turned the alarm off. We proceeded to climb out of bed and head to the bathroom, where he peed then brushed our teeth before returning and getting dressed. To my chagrin, he pulled out a Missouri Tiger t-shirt, as if I didn't have enough reason to hate him. To this obscenity, he added heavy sweatpants, white socks, and an expensive
