In my room lie splatters of “things.” Junk. Stuff. Whatever you wish to call them, they are things. Papers with little to no interest to anyone beside myself. Binders from school years past. Discarded shreds of confetti and tiny bits of glitter. All this and more can be found on the repulsing mustard shades of linoleum floor patterned in repeating squares
Large walls the color of a calm, cool, clear day shape the room. Three white figures intrude in this space like rectangular drifts of ice in the calm ocean of surrounding space. One of these doors grants exit to the room. The others enter into closed closet spaces where shirts the color of the rainbow fill their space (though most of these clothes are every color not found in the sky, they just don’t dominate the eye.) One of these icy pillars leading to colorful clothes is coated with care bears smiling and laughing. The smiles of youth that need no cause or reason. The other has lines of well adorned with pictures. Nature, sketches, swiveled patterns of swirls. Between these snowy mountains lies their guard. Four inches in height swims a turtle, aggressive and cold to the world. His beady black eyes see all from his hiding place of rainbow rocks and mossy bricks.
A shroud of violet falls over the only door leading to the sun. Across from that are two mattresses, one plump and purple, the other black and flat. A mess of fuzzy blankets and pillows reside on the bottom one. Their surrounding cold metal bars gate in the beds, sparkling like onyx in the sun.
Technology is here as well, but not at all lonely. The television is surrounded by bears and trophies alike. The computer has met models from magazines and every homework assignment that has touched my desk.
Besides that? There are only the walls. Beautiful models, skating care bears, Orlando, anime, and more drawings from my friends. The things that make up me are in my room. And you’d be wise never to enter.
 Alatria · Sat Feb 09, 2008 @ 11:20pm · 0 Comments |
