The door was firmly shut; I never liked it that way. I preferred it to be open, because I had nothing to hide. I twisted the handle and gently pushed it. There it was, the place that was witness to most of my joys, sorrows and stupidity. My room.

The room was dark because the curtains were closed. I didn’t like that either. I walked over to the window and opened the blinds allowing light to flood in. it looked so much better. I placed my fingers on the plain white walls, thinking of all the fond memories I had made in that very room. The bed was smoothened out at all the edges and looked as if it had never been used. I walked over, sat down and took a deep breath. The room looked untouched. Across from my bed was the table which held my laptop, a few books and some random knick-knacks. 

To my left, on the wall hung my dream board. I walked over to it, feeling guilty as I got closer. I hung up all the things I wanted to achieve in my life on that board. All the goals, dreams, places I wanted to visit, little notes that I had made to help me get to where I wanted to be in life hung on that little board. I never took those goals seriously, as I peered at the many slips of paper and magazine cut outs, at that moment I wished that I had taken them seriously. It was too late now anyway.

I turned my face away from the wall and walked to the other side towards my table. My laptop was positioned at the edge of my desk. I fired it up and noticed that there were a few tabs open. The first one was where my music was playing from. Thankfully, it wasn’t Justin Bieber. I smiled, remembering how I never used to listen to his music and anything else could easily satisfy me. I clicked on the next tab and a website about Bullying and Depression popped up. I looked intently at the screen, but I just couldn't remember why I was on that site. I glanced away from the device and noticed a few decorated note books lying close by. I picked one up and noticed that the cover read

                          “Insecurity kills all things beautiful”

That was my favorite book, I used to pen down all my thoughts and ideas even if they were pointless. I thought that they would come in handy somewhere along the road. I never got the chance to use it. I dropped the book onto the table and shut my eyes tight. I didn't want to remember. I couldn't handle it. I clenched my fists, took a deep breath and opened my eyes again.

I walked away from the desk towards my bedside table. I saw a hint of blue peeking out through the contents of a worn basket. I pulled it out and saw that it was a roll of painters tape. I had always wanted to paint the walls in my room. I wanted vibrant sea foam green. I never got around to doing it until…

I had the sudden urge to look underneath my bed. I lifted the thin bed sheet and looked underneath. I saw a small little jar and reached for it. I picked it up, it felt cool in my palm. I got back onto my feet and sat down on my bed. The jar had a year scribbled onto it using permanent marker. It read “2013”. I unscrewed the lid out of curiosity and emptied it out. Only a few strips of paper fell out of the jar. Figures, I wasn’t having a good year anyway. The jar was supposed to be filled to the brim with the good memories I had.

I looked around the room once again; there was nothing more I wanted to see. I glanced at my bed, the plain white walls and my desk wishing that it could all just go back to the way it once was. I was slightly startled when I saw the door knob turn, I moved away as I saw a woman enter the room. Her face was pale and her eyes looked sunken. She looked tired, as if she had been crying. As if she couldn’t take it anymore. She walked around my room and sat down on my bed. She rubbed her palms on the sheets and I noticed that a single tear rolled down her cheek. She quickly stood up and began towards the door. As she stepped out of the room, she took one last look behind her, and on her face was something both peculiar and beautiful. It was a smile. She looked straight at me and sighed. There was something strange about the way she was looking at me, she was looking past me..through me. I wanted to say something but I just couldn’t find the right words. She wiped her tears and walked away. My mother walked away.

If only I was alive.