A Room of Forgotten Memories | Teen Ink

A Room of Forgotten Memories

March 9, 2022
By helmdemii BRONZE, Cavite, Other
helmdemii BRONZE, Cavite, Other
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
Beautiful people has a beautiful problems


The black doorway has bright lights reflecting on the walls, and there it is, the room I've been avoiding for a long time. As I stepped inside the room, the feeling of sudden sadness and melancholy hit me. The room was bleak, cold, and completely dark. The room was quiet and somber in there, and I felt a chill as the darkness engulfed me. A big open window was covered by a long curtain blowing by the wind with a cloud of dust piled in the edges.

I switched on the dim light and saw the white-plain walls and the untouched queen-sized bed with a gray study table on the right of it. On the right corner of the room, it has a big dirty-white hard wooden cabinet. As I sat at the end of the bed, a vivid memory came up. This room was used to be mine, used to be my comfort zone.

It is the place that comforts me like a mother tightly hugging her daughter whenever I'm hurt or lost or happy. This room has tons of bittersweet memories. Seeing my once favorite corner of this room makes my heart shuttered and empty at the same time. On a corner, I have known before. Walls adorned with awards and trophies of my former self.

That is currently fading in my memory, or should I say I want to forget. Some people say that this room is neat or charming, and at the first glance, it is not the worst room that one could be lying down in. But this room is like a nightmare that I don't want to go back to. This room comforted me yet drowned me in loneliness and grief. Staying in this room feels like dying thirsty in the ocean you knew that oceans water cannot quenched you, yet you still drink it.

I think if I stayed in this room a long time ago, the wounds that are healing won't be healed forever. This room is not very big yet why I didn't find myself here a long time ago. Maybe this room is now a prison of my old self. The subduedness of the light in this room is like the life of my old self. This prison of the past should have to be forgotten. I wish as I turn my back on this room, I would not come at it again.



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