My Bedroom
... my bedroom floor. I lethargically rose out of bed, the carpet fibers lightly tickling the pads of my feet. Looking at my bed, I see the sheets and blankets in dire need of straightening. Two pillows rest at opposite ends – covered by cases made of turquoise cloth. This color forms a pleasant matching contrast with the darker blues that plainly compromise the coloring of the bedspread. At one corner, I see my sheet, a salmon-colored item that does not seem to match anything at all, struggling to maintain its grip on the mattress. An array of semi-gloss, eggshell, and shades of Atlantic Ocean Blue cover the four walls and their accompanying baseboards with scattered chips of paint. An enlarged photograph of a 1968 Shelby GT-500 hangs above my bed, its extremely large prominence reminds me of my goals and dreams. Shelves weighed down with scattered memories protrude from the wall adjacent to the door – topped by a number of photographs in pewter frames. One particular photo jumps out at me of my own car reminding me of all the back-breaking labor and sweat I had to endure to desire it. At one corner, I see my oak dresser. The dresser is tall and quite old, a ‘hand-me-down’ from my Aunt before she moved out of her parents house. It stands to the left and three feet across from the foot of my bed. The brown wooden finish, tarnished from years of use, is in desperate need to be re-stained. Upon the dresser rests an unused fourteen-inch television set accompanied by a video cassette player, collecting dust. Alongside the dresser sits a stereo, used to fill the void of silence while I do homework or scavenge for clothing. Piles of compact disks lie scattered across the floor, the epitome of disorder. I walk awkwardly across my bedroom floor, wading through the swamp of clothes, and dodging the piles of cars and car parts’ magazines that carpet the floor. I step inside my walk-in closet and immediately the fleeting scent of lavender suffuses me. I sort through my vast array of jeans and t-shirts once rescued from the clearance racks, begging to be worn. A collection of socks and underwear are shoveled out of the way to reach th...