Awakening

Chapter 1

    When Ryder woke up in the morning, he glanced back at his clock. He looked out the window at the streets of Los Angeles, still dark with the streetlights on. He and his parents lived in a 1400-square-foot apartment in Los Angeles, California, with large windows that overlooked the city. His bedroom had a large window that allowed the sun to shine in on his bed as it rose. The room itself was simple, with a large bed in the middle and two bedside tables on either side. Everything was organized and spotless. His parents insisted upon it.

His alarm clock sat on the right side. He looked over at it, seeing 5:30 a.m. shining brightly on the digital screen. He sighed, and got out of bed to get dressed. He had formed the tradition of waking up early to exercise, either go for a run, or a bike ride, or just use the weights in their small home gym when he couldn't make it to their own gym. Today, he decided to mix them up. He went over to his computer and checked the weather. It was 13 degrees out. I'll need to wrap up a little, he thought. He went to his dresser and grabbed his running clothes, his watch, and his school's baseball hoodie with Hunter B. Brown Tigers mascot on the front, along with their signature red and dark grey surrounding it. He looked at it briefly, the name Jackson laminated in big, white letters on the back. He pulled it over his head, and set his watch to track his time and his distance.
    "Alright," He said to himself. "Let's go under an hour."

    He took off down the street, the streetlights illuminating the path in front of him. He looked around him, seeing shops and restaurants lit up along the sides of the road. He watched as he zipped past them, the storefronts becoming a blur as he forced himself to pick up speed. The sounds of the early morning birds singing from the wires filled the morning air around him as the sun began to shine over the horizon, painting a beautiful weave of oranges, pinks, and purples in the sky. He picked up his pace, the terrain refusing to give him an edge. He ran up a steep hill and past the bay, the large skyscrapers and small houses zipping by as he picked up more speed. Almost there. He thought, recognizing the small ice cream shop that stood just a few hundred meters from the main road. As he reached the tarmac of the familiar street, he felt his feet aching, and his lungs demanding relief.

    Not yet. He begged. Just a little further. He pushed harder, craving the burn from his calves and the wind in his face. Finally, after a few more kilometers, he arrived back at his front porch. He checked his watch. He had run 16 kilometers in 56 minutes, and 13 seconds.
    "Not bad," he said to himself. He checked the time. It was only 6:40. "I can squeeze in a little more before breakfast." he said. He went down to the basement, alternating between the bench press, the pull-up bar, and his squat rack. When the clock reached 7:00, he went upstairs to shower and change his clothes.
    As he stepped out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist, and leaned on the counter, taking in his reflection in the mirror. He was a very attractive young man, as his mother always told him, despite his objections and embarrassment. He stood at a towering six-foot-four, with thick, shoulder-length blond hair, a strong, sharp jawline that was clean-shaven and smooth, and bright blue eyes that put the waters of the Carribean to shame. He, however, felt that his lumbering height and symmetrical, distinctive features made him feel like a pariah around other people.
Despite the fact that he had a rather unique appearance, there was one aspect about his looks that he found particularly remarkable. A tattoo on his back, just under his right shoulder blade. It looked like some kind of large bird, with enormous, outstretched wings and a long, broad tail. He never knew where it came from, or why it had been done. He had had it for as long as he could remember. It was a symbol, but he couldn't recognize what it was.