8:00 AM.

  There is a word for it...

  Not hatred...

  Loathing...

  In all those who see the day by the name of Monday...

  There are many feelings...

  Some... despise...

  Some... dread...

  Some... fear...

  Some... hate...

  But to a very special and select group of individuals that live on planet Earth...

  There are those that not only and merely hate Mondays...

  No.

  They simply loathe them.

  Which is to say, hate beyond hate...

  Such one child was the very boy by the name of Maximillian Hunter.

  To him, this was the worst day of the week...

  The first day of suffering...

  The first moment of pain and agony that was enduring lugging his body to and fro from the torment-filled gates of that "thing."

  School...

  Words would fail to describe his hatred for it...

  And so, it was quite a shock, even to him...

  When he woke up that day...

  At the sound of his alarm...

  Feeling something of a conglomerate of emotions...

  The alarm sounded.

  It was a normal sounding alarm...

  Boring as many would imagine...

  But it got the job done.

  After all, the teenage boy was now awake...

  Eyes open...

  Now staring into the ceiling...

  And of that, did yet another alarm sound in the vicinity.

  He knew who that was.

  It was obvious.

  His very own mother's alarm was sounding...

  And thereof, did she turn it off...

  And the sounds of her getting up and preparing to help him get ready for school could be heard in the vicinity.

  Well, to be more precise, she wasn't really going to do that much.

  After all, Max was a teenage boy...

  15 years old...

  He could more than easily get himself to school...

  As a matter of fact, it was more than easy for him to all things considered.

  After all...

  8:01 am.

  Max's eyes remained open to the ceiling...

  Now pondering...

  It was an odd thing about the teenage boy...

  However, even and so, as he was full able to stand up and get ready for school right then and there...

  It was a very rare thing that he would ever so choose to do so.

  As a matter of factly, he would, most usually, wait in his bed and think for a moment before heading to the showers.

  That was just him.

  And of this case, well...

  He was full of things to consider...

  Because, well...

  This was a Monday.

  And of it, he wasn't feeling that same loathing in his heart.

  Well, to be more precise, it was still there...

  The hatred of Mondays...

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  It is a drug...

  But...

  This time...

  Something was different...

  Or rather, the boy by the name of Maximillian Hunter...

  Felt different about it.

  It wasn't just because he had friends now...

  No.

  That feeling he'd known. Sure...

  But this time...

  It was an odd sort of dread...

  Almost as though his chest was going to be cut open.

  That feeling...

  After all, he remembered full-well what had happened the previous weekend.

  That whole altercation...

  To say nothing of his friends...

  And even still, what was said...

  "I'm the only one in the world like me."

  How he wished he'd never said that.

  How he wished to the bottom of his heart.

  Because now...

  Yep.

  He was screwed.

  8:02 am.

  Steps could be heard.

  His mother had walked out of her bedroom...

  Likely to make breakfast.

  That was her morning routine.

  Either that, or to microwave whatever was left of their last meal.

  And of that breakfast, well...

  Max would see it soon enough.

  8:03 am.

  The contemplations continued...

  It was an odd thing to be sure.

  Just what does one do about such a situation?

  In reality, Max really had no idea.

  After all, he would have to meet them.

  And of that...

  Soon...

  He continued to look into the air and consider the occurrences of the previous night.

  And even still, those of the previous morning.

  True as it was, he expected them to still talk about it the next day.

  And of that whole thing, well...

  What would Max truly say?

  After all, she...

  She surprised him.

  8:04 am.

  It was at about this time that the young teenager would eventually get himself ready to get out of bed.

  Not that he would, no...

  But rather that he would finally quit tossing and turning or staring into the ceiling...

  And finally pull himself out of bed.

  This was the case for many, many, many scenarios in the past...

  However, today...

  It was not out of loathing...

  At least not partially...

  But rather, out of dread.

  Dread and fear of what was to come.

  After all, he would soon meet them.

  And of them...

  8:05 am.

  It was at this time...

  Most often, that the boy by the name of Maximillian Hunter would often finally find himself out of his own bed.

  It was a strange thing to be sure...

  Because it was almost always at around this time that he eventually got himself out of bed...

  And of that getting up, the very first thing in the Hunter household schedule...

  Was to take a shower.

  8:06 am.

  Julianne Hunter, on the other hand, had no such issues.

  As a matter of fact, she woke up because of her son's need to go to school.

  Other than that, she would probably stay in bed several moments longer...

  Perhaps even more than an hour later.

  It was a well known thing therefore, that it would be Max who would use the bathroom first...

  And never her.

  After all, what could she do at 8 am?

  Maybe catch up on some T.V show?

  Call an old friend?

  Well, she had her ideas...

  But she would rarely ever do so.

  That was just her life...

  After all, she had more than enough money to do so.

  8:07 am.

  Towel at hand, clad in what was nothing more than a pair of shorts and a shirt, this teenage boy was finally ready to get himself a shower.

  A sigh escaped his mouth as he made it to the bathroom.

  In reality, it was nothing fancy.

  That much Max knew of.

  After all, what was spectacular about it?

  It was well organized...

  That much being almost entirely for his mother's efforts...

  It had a nice mirror...

  That could also be said.

  And of Max, well...

  He did know a few things about this bathroom...

  One being that some of the beauty products in there were far more expensive than one could ever imagine.

  He knew that much, and a few other things...

  But those did not concern him...

  At least not then.

  8:08 am.

  And of it, he took a shower...

  8:11 am.

  And was done in a total of 3 minutes.

  His mother could hear him walking back out of the bathroom...

  As she herself was then and there done with cooking them a meal.

  And of the teenage boy, he lazily dragged his feet to his bedroom...

  Lugging himself...

  But this time, not because of his definitively profound hatred for Mondays...

  But rather, because he simply dreaded what was to come.

  8:12 am.

  He opened his bedroom door and prepared for what was the next part of the preparation for Monday mornings.

  That being...

  Preparing to go to school...

  And of it, that required that he dressed up.

  And of that, well, ...

  His usual get up would suffice.

  8:13 am.

  All washed by the washing machine, with the exception of his jacket...

  Was a black shirt, brown jeans, and finally...

  His one of a kind hoodie.

  All three were in his wardrobe...

  Hanged up and prepped for the next day of school.

  This, also, was done by his mother...

  The very fact being that the majority of the cleaning of his room was done by her as well.

  Of course, also to say… that Maximillian Hunter was a pretty messy teenager.

  After all, without her, his entire room would look like he'd tried to have a fight in it.

  8:14 am.

  With his powers, Max could simply decide to move left from right, up and down, and dress himself up in a matter of seconds...

  It would never take him more than a few moments to do so...

  However, strangely, and also because of his loathing perhaps...

  He would never do so.

  To do so.. for a Monday...

  Never.

  That was just him.

  Without skipping too many beats, he put his shirt and pants on, before taking his jacket as well...

  It was a white jacket...

  The kind that had an almost beauteous white...

  And also, the kind that Max himself would never give to anyone else.

  The fact of the matter was, that it was his mother who made that jacket.

  And by made, that would be to say, that she made it in her lab...

  Yep.

  The jacket in and of itself was mechanical...

  In a sense...

  Even though there was no such thing as a machine on Earth that could tell anyone so, that remained the truth...

  That this jacket...

  Was way more than could ever meet the eye.

  With a press of the button on it, he could have it change its colour...

  And that wasn't all it could do...

  And even still, not a machine could tell it was like that.

  That was just protonite tech...

  Made specifically by a mother...

  For her son...

  And of that, Max as well, put it on.

  That, most often, turned out to be Max's typical look.

  The one that he used in almost every circumstance...

  As long as nothing too special was going on.

  But that much being said, Maximillian Hunter did always carry that jacket.

  The exact same jacket.

  No matter what.

  8:16 am

  The next order of business was his school work.

  Now this was an actual hurdle for Max, seeing as even he did not exactly remember what he had to do that day.

  But it was ok, Max knew for a fact that every student received a school timetable in their documents...

  And with that, the teenager leisurely walked over to open it and see what was laying in wait for him.

  Max: (thinking: Maths...)

  No big deal, Mrs. Newman was only a little bit harsh.

  Max: (thinking: Biology...)

  He remembered the dead frog and rat he'd used to scare a few girls the previous week.

  It's a Monday...

  He may as well at least make something out of it.

  And then as well, ...

  Max: (thinking: Chemistry...)

  Now that one was a hurdle.

  The teacher almost lost his temper simply because he broke some glasses.

  While the teacher remained calm, Max didn't need a degree in psychology to know that he shouldn't be too worried about him, but also, should be wary not to break anything this day.

  And then it hit him...

  Like a boulder...

  Or even like a truck.

  It was today.

  That day...

  Was today...

  And of it, did Maximillian Hunter's eyes widen...

  And did he audibly say...

  Max: Awwww man...