16 February 2013
My Childhood Bedroom
As I sit bundled up in a warm, brown, comfy hoodie and a large, red blanket, I say to myself, “Where is my favorite place to be?” Well that’s easy because it’s here in my room. My room is the one place where I can be me. I can be perfectly content by myself in this room happily laying there watching TV. When sitting on my soft bed with cozy, red comforter, I look around my room and notice that all my walls are different, yet they all tie together perfectly.
On the wall at the end of my bed I have a bookcase built into my off white walls. On my bookcase I have an array of childhood treasures. My stack of books looks like a tall tower full of gossip, tricks, and tips. On my top shelf is where I place my photos, one of which is my favorite, the one of myself and my best friend as a child. Every time I glance over at it, it makes me smile and remember the good times we had. That same smile I had on my face the day we met. Below my window is my dresser. It’s a golden brown color. Almost the same color as warm, golden, brown bread that’s just come out of the oven.
Looking to my left the wall is mainly covered by a large floor length mirror. Above my mirror is a picture my friends and I playing in the grassy field behind my dad’s house where I grew up. Beside that is my black and white clock. I hear it tick, tock, tick, tock every day and every night. Below my tick, tock clock is a wooden decoration that says: A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. I love this wall the most because I can see who I am, where I came from, and who, and what I care most about.
Behind me is my third wall. It’s the wall with the important things, my door, and my bed. I have a handmade side table that my grandfather had made for me. On top of my side table I have a sleek, silver, transparent lamp with a deep, black, round lamp shade. Next to my side table is my luxurious, comfortable