Chapter - 1 Please give it a review

Before you read!!!

My english is not even close to perfect, because i'm from Denmark, just so you know. :)

Chapter 1:
The alarm goes off, it’s 06:58. He slowly turns in bed while making a sound which reflects his frustration of having to wake up again. Almost every morning he had an inner resistance to get up, a lack of motivation. He knew the day would probably turn out as yesterday. Getting up, going to work, work for 8-10 hours depending on the amount of work he felt like they wanted him to do. Get back home, make dinner, eat dinner, watch some TV, sleep, and then repeat. His lack of motivation turned into an activation of his right arm pushing the button which said snooze. He likes the word snooze. He likes the way it looks. It has become a habit for him. Start the day with 9 minutes of sleep or delaying of getting ready. Everyday has to start with nine minutes of snoozing, which makes it precisely 07:07, satisfying his mild self-diagnosed OCD. He is moving between a state of being asleep and awake, a blissful feeling. Everything feels perfect. His dune feels like a part of him, the madras seems to be letting go to his weight, his pillow hugging his head. The normal hectic big city noises seem to just flow straight threw him, they don’t bother him. He has no thoughts, time doesn’t seem to exit. Everything feels perfect. Then by the noise of the alarm he is dragged away from the blissful sensation. It feels like another world. He sits for a while on the side of the bed, goes through the day in this head, again with a slight resistance to it. Before he stands up, he makes a silent sigh and starts walking into the kitchen, and puts water in the kettle. As the fire is heating up the water, he moves into the bathroom, where he turns on the water. Just feeling the cold water, as he is pulling his hand towards him. He looks in the mirror, inspecting his face with deep concentration. A quick unjudging look would have found nothing, but the longer he looks, the worse it gets. He is not happy with what he sees and unfortunately, today it somehow seems to be a bit worse. Even though he knows the face looks exactly as yesterday, he is not happy with it. While the judging is still going on, the steam is building up on the edges of the mirror indicating the water is getting warm. He sees it, writing his name in it, as he always did when he was a kid, before jumping into the shower. The sensation of the hot water makes him forget the things he didn’t like about himself. As he got used to the temperature of the water, the problems seem to arise again. The kettle makes its sound, which brings a short glimpse of pleasure projected into the future. Coffee. He turns of the water, dries himself with the towel he has used for the last couple of days. He is entering the kitchen, the steam leaving the kettle quickly disappears as he turns off the gas. Takes a cup from the shelf, two big spoons of instant coffee, and some hot water from the kettle. Never milk. Even though he likes it with it. Sitting, enjoying his coffee, with sunlight entering through the windows. He didn’t know that the apartment was facing the east side, when he rented it. The morning coffee accompanied by the sun was a great a recipe for some joyful minutes in the morning. He always got lost in thoughts while drinking his coffee. Thoughts just drifting by as clouds in the sky, doing no harm. This meant that the coffee always got cold before he ended the cup of coffee. As he puts down his cup, after refusing to take a sip, as he feels the cold of the coffee on the tip of his lips. Leaving the cup on the side of the sofa he got from a friend, he moves to his room and starts to get dressed. Opening his closet, going through the excessive amount of Ralph Lauren, Gucci, Armarni and other high end shirts. They are all perfectly ironed, by the Chinese ironing just around the corner. It brought him great pleasure to watch his clothes perfectly ironed. Everything was in order. Company, color, everything. Same goes for his pants, though most of them were black, he did have some grey and dark blue in the right side of the closet. The dark blue, before the grey making the overlap of colors look good. As he is looking through the clothes, he is interrupted by the boy.

• “What are you doing?”
  He ignores the boy.
  He gets annoyed that the boy would interrupt him now. It was an important thing for him. Everyone at the office was well looking. So needed he to be.
• “What are you doing?” The boy asks again with curiosity in his voice.
• “I am choosing my clothes for today, it is important, you know?”
• “Why is it important?” The boy asks.
• “Because I have to look good”. He answers, while not giving the child to much attention as he continues to get ready. He seems deeply concentrated in fitting everything perfectly together.
  The boy turns silent for a moment as he quietly mumbles the answer for himself a few times. “I have to look good…” . You could see it in his eyes, that he was trying to rationalize the answer. He watches him getting ready, observing his deep concentration in such an activity that normally takes the boy a few seconds. In failing to trying to understand what he meant and why it is so important, he lets his curiosity lead the way.
• “Why do you have to look good?” The boy then asks.
• “That’s how it is, okay!?”
  Getting quite annoyed, as he thought the boy had stopped asking. Even though he could feel he was still in the room, he tried to ignore him. He could feel his present in the room, and he didn’t like it.
• “Okay...” The boy says. The boy is shocked. He feels the change of energy and stops asking. Feeling let down, ignored and hurt. The boy turns away and walks out of the room.
  He would always feel a bit guilty and phony after being confronted by the boy. But that’s how it was. And had been for some years now.
  As he is about to leave, he looks into the apartment. The kid is standing in front of the mirror in the living room. The boy smiles as he sees himself. The boy would always smile or play in front of the mirror when watching himself. As the boy notice that he is watching him in the top corner of the mirror, the expression of the boy changes. The smile quickly turns into a neutral, depressed expression as he was being suppressed. Like he wasn’t allowed to show his feelings.
  “Bye…Please be quiet today, okay?”
  The kid looks at him. Looking quite scarred. For the boy it felt like a thread.
  “Okay. Bye”