F. Scott Fitzgerald's The Cabin-Personal Narrative

It was another early morning in the Cabin for Greg, he can feel the light glittering upon his face and sees the bright glow through his eyelids. He slowly opens his eyes to the bright world that he was in. He hears the sound of a car starting up out the front of the Cabin, he knows what day today is, Sunday. The smell of the fresh country air drifts him downstairs and toward the kitchen as if he was thinking with his nose. The cupboard glides open and he helps himself to his daily bowl of Honey and Oats. He slightly opened the window to feel the refreshing breeze gush past his face, “what a beautiful Sunday!” he said to himself.
Whilst He was admiring the country air the floor boards began to creak behind him. The hinges of the door squeak and the curtains started to flatter along the floor. “Good morning Gregory Dear, I forgot my wallet I
He turned on the hot water and balanced it out with some cold water and then undressed. He stepped into the shower and started to wash himself. The water was running down his face as if he was crying. He peered into the mirror through the glass pane on the shower door, it was him, trapped. He leant back and reached for the pink soap that was on the shower shelf, he was reaching left and right and couldn’t feel the soap, he turned around and it wasn’t there. He was confused because his Mum always had soap sitting on that shelf that was strange. She must have forgot again.
He walked out of the shower with a towel around his body and went straight into his room to get dressed. He put on his dry, warm clothes that had just came out of the dryer. He peered over to his bedside table where his phone was resting and gently pushed down the home button. The screen was alight, but there was no message from his Mother. Usually she always sends a text to check up just in case he might be late, that just what she always