My mom entered my room to say good night. I finished up what I was doing and came to her just in time to see her gaze travel across my bedroom. I had no excuse for it. It was a reflection of my state of mind. Nothing a good rake couldn't fix. She looked everything over in a swift straight way a mother does. Snooping silently. She saw my car model, stupid and usless really - I'd never finish it because I couldn't work the decals, but it was finished. Random clothes bits on the floor along with a shoe box even I didn't know what to do with. She saw my desktop computer - stupid and useless. My lounge chair - stupid and uselss. My purple lace panites - not stupid but useless. Usually I tried to hid things like that from her, but now I felt no need to. It's my room.
"Oh, soil on the floor." she pointed out.
"Armani knocked it over." I said plainly. She nodded.
"Still have your backpack out?"
"Oh." Oh yeah, I forgot about that. "Well school will be here in no time."
"I suppose." Her eyes fell on a picture of Alex and I. Then continued. "Crackers?" She asked, as if snacks were rare in my room. They sat next to the waste basket. A new trend only Alex would understand. "Well there's where your canker sore came from." Yeah, that and my buffet of pickles and olives. The salt murdered my tongue. I couldn't eat for two days, and even then one meal was all I could handle. As if I really cared. Hell - I had four baby carrots and I felt the strongest urge to puke. Like eating was on my list of things to do.
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