the walls all melt to the ground

I woke from my nap with a short sneeze. The air reeked of mixed ammonia, causing me to realize that the cleaning people had come and gone, without my knowledge. They usually chatter about the recent gossip of Hollywood stars and other superficial icons, but they did their work, silent and swift. I looked at the clock. Four minutes before the time I set for my alarm to go off. Things tend to go this way. It was a Thursday morning, almost afternoon, and I was barely stirring. I covered my head with the sheets and sunk down into the comfort of my bed - just for a minute - to gain energy to roll out of my sanctuary of slumber. Under the covers, I opened my eyes to see the beams of light seeping through the small holes of the fabric shielding me, and it was inevitable that the day was calling once again. School, work, and grueling hours of study were summoning me to my desk and to class. In a little over an hour, I would be sitting at that crowded table, racking my brains to remember the conjugations of the pluperfect form of the given verb. I wonder what my parents would think of me hiding under the covers, just for a little bit of peace and procrastination from the world of studious labor.
I was so used to having a laid-back, rushed lifestyle only a few months ago. I looked at my now pale skin on my arms and remembered when it was delightfully brown and smooth. My hair was darker and much shorter, having lost its spotaneous streaks of blonde that made it so unique. People were convinced it was highlighted, but I could only thank the sun for them, and the job was free. The summer was such a relaxed but strict schedule, and I wouldn't have changed it for the world. I was rarely at home, actually having a crazy social life that had me on my phone and in my car constantly. The evenings on the lake were always magical, no matter how many times you experienced it. Watching the sun set, the light sparkling against the slow and smooth wake, catching your eye like a clean cut diamond under a display lamp. The water was so dark and soothing, making music that could easily lull me to sleep by splashing against the nearby docks. This was my playground of the summer. It was where every emotion possible had occured. My best friend - my dearest, dearest Alexi and I spent our limited time together flying carelessly across the surface of the water. As the daily rain would come, we would stop our speed-demon antics, just to feel the warm water on our skin, and sit to talk. Our legs linking each other's crafts, we would smile, let the raindrops sting our burnt cheeks and roll off our noses, and reflect on the silence of the beautiful lake. Our voices would murmur, paralleling the soft sounds of the rain hitting the water, and the roaring engines of our machines would rest. It was that wonderful time we all called summer. And how I miss it so.