A Room, My Room

The floorboards creaked as I entered the hallway. My bedroom door was open a crack, so I pushed my door back as I entered my dark room, the fan looming over me like dozens of eyes. I turned on my lamp which hadn’t been dusted in weeks The photos of my photo collage stared at me as I remembered when I took those photos. Me when I was eleven, with my brother on the day before Easter. A photo of my grandparents cat. All of those memories enveloped me like a blanket that secured around me. The sun shined in my eyes as I closed them, wondering what it would be like when I grew up. I leaned against the cold wall against my bedroom and wished that this pandemic would stop.

Underneath the photos, there lay a cardboard shelf, which I hadn’t put anything in there in days My desk, which I got when I was ten, had a bunch of stuff on it. Christmas cards for my friends Sketchbooks for me to draw on. A photo frame with pink fabric that had a rainbow embroidered onto it. On the left there lay a turtle lamp, which my grandmother gave to me. On the right, there lay a can of my pens that I hadn’t used that much.

Next to my bedside table, there lay a bookcase, which I turned into a dresser. I bought a mirror with my own allowance, and beneath there lay my hairbrush. Dust. Nothing but dust.

Clouds came into the distance, pouring sudden raindrops as I looked out my window, listening to music with my headphones plugged into my ears. Not a noise. I took my headphones out of my ears to hear loud birds chirping in the distance as I crawled under the blankets to hear my dog barking, at a package that just arrived.