So many litters. This room for today's cleaning schedule is cramped with lots of odds and ends. Nobody would want to stay here… nobody would want to have this.
Why did I choose to paint this room black? It feels suffocating. But sometimes, it feels better to be one with the dark. I guess I won't be cleaning this part yet. I can't handle staying here for long. I can't breathe, it's too filthy in here. It smells like sewage. I think I'll need help in here. But not now. It's too embarrassing to let someone in here. My family wouldn't like that either.
"Huh!"
I can only endure this much. Checking that room from time to time and make sure it won't get any dirtier. I kept the windows closed, placed dark and heavy curtains so the light won't pass through and even the strongest wind won't be able to lift the curtain.
"It's better."
I kept the flickering light turned off… it's a waste of energy. I just have to let it that way… for the meantime. Nobody would care if I'll put a "Do Not Enter" sign.
Baaam!
I accidentally slammed the door like there's another force from the inside pushing it.
"It hurts."
My body felt too heavy to move. I stopped for a while and trudged to the other room. I can see that it was somehow managed. It doesn't need too much cleaning… it just needs to be maintained. I wouldn't mind redecorating it also. Maybe I'll spend the rest of the day in this room. Certainly, my parents would love that. We always argue before when I don't use this room and clean it. They always give me something to put in it. They emphasized that it's the only room I can look better and it's the one that can be tended easily. I can worry about it sometimes but they assured me that they will at least check it day after the other. And since this room is exposed to everyone, we have to make sure that this is well ventilated, well lighted… the scent in the room should always be fresh.
"It makes sense."
I muttered. I let my body dive onto the soft, sweet-scented bed… like I'm lying on a bed of fresh flowers in the meadow. Breathe in… breathe out. My eyes are smiling brightly while staring at the white-painted ceiling. I somehow felt relieved and refreshed. I guess I can move on to work the garden.
I searched for the tools in tending the garden and proceeded right away. I swept the ground first with a broomstick then broke up and turned up the soil so I can remove the weeds trouble-free.
The garden should be tended from time to time.
I removed the dried leaves and branches, trimmed the plants, and water them. The wind started to blow and I can see how the plants gracefully dance in the tune of the wind's melodic whistle.
"It's good."
I pat my shoulders not for a job well done but because I was getting tired. I've thought about the two rooms I have to fix so I just vent a good sigh.
"I can rest soon."
I planted new flowering plants and herbs. I restructured the landscape and placed a two-seater wooden bench I got from the storage room near the Salingbobog tree. I watered the plants and the soil last. There'll be more weeds again tomorrow, fallen leaves, and twigs. But at least, the garden has a new life.
Next will be the stairs. The support of the staircase is still good. Why is it that it's only you who got rotten like this? Were you accidentally poured with a harmful chemical or something? It's funny how I talk to you like this, huh? It's hard to remove you from this staircase. I'll just rub down the blemishes and grind these sharp and uneven edges. Then I'll cover the whole tread with a new board. Don't worry, I'll work on you hard and keep me safe while I march on the stairs.
The blemishes aren't easy to remove. They're here to stay. It's easier to have the edges trimmed than to rub you off. A good wooden pallet would be enough to conceal everything.
This house will just be fine…
"On its own…"
Things will get as easy as falling off a log… undisturbed.
***
Everyone's at home and the house is filled with separate activities. Mom prepared the lunch, seafood paella. Its rich aroma lingers all around the house.
I couldn't help but get sad. She probably forgot again that I'm allergic to seafood. I shooed away the negative thoughts and feelings.
"Hoo-haah!"
Dad will prepare another food for me so we can have the meal together. But it's fine. I told dad not to cook something else. I'll eat whatever's prepared on the table. I have medicines anyway.
Though we're having lunch together, I just wanted it to finish. I'm eating slower than usual and had only a little on my plate. Though we're having a good conversation, I could only react and add to some things. I couldn't even hear my voice. Though we laugh, I think I'm fooling myself to the extent that I can feel my eyes are fighting back tears.
After the meal, I went straight to the black room. Am I here to check it or it's just that I have no other place to go? I went inside and curled up on the bed without turning the light on. The room that feels suffocating is now calming my raging heart. I turned my gaze to the heavy and thick curtain covering the window. I dawdled and approached the curtain, clutched it, and pushed it to the side slowly. The light slowly shone and struck my eyes. It's too blinding I closed my eyes and kept only a small opening. It won't do good if I'll move the curtain until the end. A small gap would be enough.