My Bedroom

          When you first walk into the fortress that I call my bedroom, your eyes quickly adjusted to the softness of the mocha brown walls. You start to feel sleepy from the warmth so you look and see my bed with black sheets soft like a sheep’s wool.  On your way to the bed you feel the soft carpet massaging your feet as you walk. You lie down and see the wooden wardrobe in front of the bed. To the right you notice the family pictures and book in the eggshell white bookshelf. You start to yawn and shut your eyes to the quite sounds of my sisters TV down the hallway. The smell of fresh laundry is pulling you deeper into your slumber but the piercing smell of dirty gym clothes is dancing around in the back of your head like a stink demon. Now in my bed where you lie, dreaming of all the sugar plum pie. When you wake to a breakfast of eggs, you feel a rush of happiness through your legs.