My room. As I sit on the floor and breath, childhood memories coming rushing back. Running in and out of my room, jumping on my bed, making forts that would cover the entire room, having to clean up the forts the next day, being in trouble and having to stay in my room for a WHOLE hour-that was always the death of me. Then I remember rearranging my room, it was my favorite thing to do, my parents least. Moving my pretty pink bookshelf that was in the shape of a dollhouse and 6 times my size, the bookshelf that my dad had made for me at the age of five, the bookshelf that now sits in the basement because I am far too old. I remember getting my walls painted. They had been a pale yellow, one at which I had despised, I got it painted blue, I was a tomboy and blue was a cool color. I remember getting my carpets changed. they were a white...well they had been at one point I think, though they were covered in food, drink, nail polish stains and who knows what else. I got them replaced with a blue, to match my walls. I remember having to move everything out of my room to have this done and the entire hallway was filled with my things for two days. I remember sneaking up cookies to my bedroom with my friends and making them clean up the crumbs that they seemed to carelessly scatter everywhere. I remember getting older, and getting rid of that bookshelf, and replacing it with a woven chair that sits in the corner, much more mature, but sometimes I miss that bookshelf. I remember as I grew older I got a new bed, much bigger with colorful quilts that still change constantly. I remember as I grew older, the games that use to lie around are replaced now with shoes, purses, and schoolbooks. My lamp that I once used to stay up past my bedtime to play leapfrog and game boy, I use only now when I have unfinished work that must be completed in the comforts of my bed. My room is much different than it was, and sometimes I wish it were the same. It was so much simpler then. My only worry was if mommy and daddy would allow me to have a friend over, and if they would allow me to stay up a little past my bedtime. Those worries are now replaced with stress, and anxiety. Anxiety of what tomorrow brings and what is yet to come. Those worries are filled with emotions, and sadness, and loneliness at times. Sometimes I wish I never grew older. I must go now, I have work to do, but thank you for letting me revisit a much simpler time.
By Taj Petrilli