Junk yard bedroom

Authors Avatar by andrewlee123 (student)

If there were any place that would seem like an unknown planet cowering away from the glares of others, it would have to be my room. But I didn’t see it like that: instead of seeing it like an ‘unknown planet’, I took my room as a safe heaven of soothing sounds, cluttered junk and wonderful, aromatic smells.

It was my personalised junkyard where all my chaotic belongings sprang to life like Jack-in-the-boxes, dangerously close to being pushed out of the window one-by-one. The most muddled up part of my room was my bedside table, which extended as long as a pirate’s plank up till my cupboard. Laying in a disarray pile on it were my porcelain doll and my stuffed toys, the toys peeking out from behind the doll. I loved the doll to bits; she glared at me with a vulture’s eye, she gave the room more energy and zest, and every time I looked into her glassy green eyes, I saw dynamism and spirit sparking out of them instead of seeing a hollow emptiness, a barren land. Her eyes, which frisked with joy, seemed to brighten up the room despite its usual mess with their mischief lurking like tadpoles under pond-leaves.

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Apart from that, my clothes were strewn all over the floor; the radio blasted punk music at top volume, the singer’s shrieks drowning my mother’s voice, and the water-dripping down from the air conditioner, clawing its way out and finally embracing the floor where it lay smugly.

My room may be the most messed up room with the water spattered on the tiled floor and the porcelain doll grinning, as happy as a chipmunk, but it had its fair share of wonderful, musky scents bumping into your nose like dodgem cars racing at top speed, as you entered. ...

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