The reflection of the teal walls on the white furniture shifted as the evening sun set. The autumn wind blew against the off-white shade through an open window. The room was full. Every corner piled high with things forgotten: old yearbooks, CDs, last season’s shoes. On the side wall hung a pink bulletin board scattered with white polka-dots and ribbon, documenting the life of the one who resides there. Drawers are overflowing. On the floor lies an extremely fluffy medium-sized dog bed. Next to the door the walls go back about two feet, and there are two tall wooden doors that fold open to reveal a closet. Inside the closet are eight rectangular shelves and three hanger sections filled with clothes. Next to the closet, in the corner of the room, there is a space that the walls go back about four feet farther, creating a little area sticking out of the room – perfect for secret clubhouses. The wall beside it has slanted walls on both sides but the center portion is straight. Coming out from the center portion of this wall, facing the middle of the room, is a bed. It has a light blue comforter with blue, light green, and white striped sheets. The pillows have miss-matched pillowcases, including one with snowmen, another with sandcastles, and a bright pink one. A smallish square window sits above the head of the bed, letting bright rays on sunlight into the room. On the next wall, there are two more windows – one little and square, and one large and rectangular. Out of those windows is a second-story view of the street and front yard.
Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening is heard throughout the house. Footsteps are coming up the fifteen-stair staircase. The door to the room is swung open, a backpack is dropped to the ground, and the light switch is flicked on.