David would never get out of his house. Ever. He had no physical or psychological problem, in fact, a part from some extra pounds, he was a perfectly healthy and normal 20-year old boy. He had friends come round visit, but he would not go out. His only problem was that he was lazy, he was lazy for everything. He was lazy to wake up, lazy to eat, lazy to finish eating, lazy to lay on the couch, lazy to get out of the couch, lazy to go to sleep. His family had long given up on trying to make him leave the house. He had, somehow, managed to find a job that allowed him to stay in and that didn't require much effort, although no one really knew how he had managed.
One summer his family left him home alone, they had tried to convince him to go on vacations with him, but to no avail. His mother left food prepared for him on the freezer and set an exhaustive method to make sure he did something during the day. She would call him every two hours or so. David's mother was tired of that life, she always wondered what had she done wrong to have such a lazy son, she felt bad for thinking so, but sometimes she wished he died so she didn't have to cope with him.
The smell of smoke woke him up, apparently there was fire in some part of the building. David could hear the fire alarms and the screams of his neighbors. He considered waking up and leaving the building, but it required too much effort. He turned around and continued sleeping. The firemen found his carbonized body on the bed, he was the only fatality on that fire, everyone had time to leave the house before the firemen arrived, and he would have probably been saved if only he hadn't been so lazy.
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