Waking Up to Reality

The light shines dimly through the thin window shades as if they weren’t there. No matter how many times I flip the switch, my obnoxious light fixture refuses to shine. Despite the lack of light, the supposed relaxing blue walls light up the room on it’s own. My fluffy unmade bed calls to me from across the room as I cross the treacherous sea of clothing. Finding my way to my bed is difficult, as I try to find a spot of my floor that is not drowning in outfit options from earlier that morning. The ruffles from my covers sneak up and tickle my face as I swat them down. I resume my usual position with my knee tucked under my chin and the other leg stretching the length of the bed. This odd position allows my small body to fit comfortably underneath my small comforter on my small bed warming my small, usually cold, feet. I’m not going to back out now, even if I had cold feet. The sheets I lay in resemble dresses I used to wear as a child, and may even be made out of the same comforting, possibly at the same time, uncomfortable material. The sun continues to blind me as it sets into the night, making it harder and harder for me to retreat from my dark cave. The world begins to fade away, and once the light is gone the uncomfortable sheets, cold feet, and iron bars of the childish headboard go with it.

After what feels like weeks, months even, I wake up from a deep slumber as my skin relaxes against the silk sheets and my whole body warms as if I’m being bear hugged by a thousand pillows. My limbs melt into the bed, with the heat spreading out onto the queen size mattress. The smell of pine sneaks into bed and fills my nose, which then causes me to smile uncontrollably before I even open my eyes. The familiar sound of my backyard being drowned by the sky encourages me to venture out of my bed oasis. I eventually build enough confidence to abandon my sanctuary, and explore this new, enlightening change in my room. The transition of going from a dark cave to a brightly lit room causes my whole body to beg for the bear hug instead. The modest source of light that dares to shine in my room is a vintage chandelier that resembles something out of Queen Elizabeth’s castle.  The artificial light brought on by this figure brightens up the dark shadow cast from the gloomy clouds crying from the sky. The first things I notice after my eyes adjust to the bright light are the walls. They are white as a blank piece of paper and are covered in original painting, prints, photos, and sketches. The pieces of artwork vary between many different types of mediums and meanings. Some are rejected paintings and photographs while others are simply something cool found online. Each creation has its own personality and dark secrets. They each have something that stands out and begs for attention. However each piece is also hiding a buried meaning stuck behind the extroverted centerpiece. After examining the art, my eyes travel down the wall expecting to see the result of my unhealthy makeup addiction scattered throughout the desk, but I’m surprised to find it all gone. Each piece of well-used gear now has its own spacious home. The only thing that remained constant between this fantasy life and reality is my closet, besides the fact that its occupants were picked up off my floor, and are where they are supposed to be. A wave of emotions washes me to shore, while fish of excitement, love, and comfort land on the sand with me. One specific feeling that was not seen on my beach was confusion. This whole transformation did not surprise me nor was unexpected at all. This transformation has been long awaited, showing my true character. 

My head leans back in astonishment, as I revel over this change and is met with the uncomfortable iron bars of my childhood bed frame. I whip around to find that my mountain of plush pillows has crumbled down to dust, and the iron bed fame covered in misleading flowers has retuned. The room I imagined had diminished into thin air, returning the blue walls, small bed, and dim light with it. I step out of bed onto a pile of clothes and papers, and begin my nightly routine. Although the clothes, makeup, and papers are put away, where I place them is not their true homes. Everyday I live in a fantasy, only to clean up to reality.