MY ROOM Personal Narrative

I live at school. The hallways, the lockers, the gum speckled floors. This is where my day begins.

I live at work. I sip my Starbucks frugally as I enter the grey room. Work, paper, red pens, paycheck. Then I drive home when the lights are bright and the skies are dark.

I live at home. Up the wide streets lined with trees. I park, eat dinner, catch up on my shows, and go upstairs.

I live in my room. I see my bulletin board, points in time frozen to be stuck upon my wall. I have a closet, my own bathroom, a desk, a bed. In my closet there are the clothes I wear and the volleyball gear I cherish. In my bathroom there is all the makeup I use, a shower, a toilet, and more lotion and body spray than I will ever need. In my desk there are papers and paychecks and junk. In my bed there are blankets and a pillow. This is where I live. After all, you spend two thirds of your life sleeping!