Short Stories

The Bedroom

The Big Pair's Room

The man stepped into his worst nightmare. The room's once bright pale pink walls that contained small dragonflies on it were now dirty and faded. Books, loose papers, and broken glass were spilled all over the floor as if a hurricane had come and misplaced everything possible. The room was dead; silence was washed over the once loud and cheery room. The once clean and organized drawers were left wide open, stripped of the clothing that the dresser once contained. The bright pink cushioned chairs were lying flat on the ground, scattered all over the room with dirt and dust covering them as a blanket. Left over clothing and fabric spilled all over the once clean, thick scarlet carpet. Looking down at the floor once more, it was dusty and covered in muddy footprints that were hungry to give this room torment.

The built-in wooden closet on the right, had its doors wide opened with almost all the shelves empty with nothing but a veil of dust. Scarce books sat at the higher shelves, but most of them lay dead on the ground. Holding the closet doors wide open, was the shoved cherry wood table that looked like it was slammed in the middle. More books and papers littered the top of the table. Even more broken glass and documents piled up against the table's legs, as if the people who corrupted the room wanted to build a mountain out of all the books and papers. The black vanity looked like it was thrown in the center of the room. It had its mirrors smashed into pieces, with knocked over perfume bottles spread across it and some shattered on the floor, giving off the room a very floral smell.

There were dark purple velvet curtains covering certain parts of the walls. The man moved the curtains and underneath them were religious symbols and paintings of saints, of the Russian orthodox church. Hundreds of these religious signs and paintings were covered with plates of gold.

He walked into the very center of the room, there was a single picture frame left over, laying on the ground with the glass broken, as if somebody stepped on it with no care. The frame was square shaped, smooth, and detailed, while covered in gold. The picture was in black and white, containing two girls dressed in the same way, a plain button up shirt tucked into a long skirt, while smiling with their surroundings being a garden. "Where were they?" he thought. Looking back up, there were two iron bedframes that were knocked over against the wall. The army cot mattresses were lousily stacked on top of each other, lying on the ground, further away from the bedframes with muddy footprints all over them. The room smelled like tobacco and dirt mixed with the fragrances that were released from its broken glass containers. There stood a fireplace with a small rectangular music box placed in the center. It was covered in dust, but once wiped away the exterior was covered with paintings of different types of flowers, like roses, tulips, and daises. When the music box was opened, it played "God Save The Tsar," what was once a proud national anthem was now forbidden to be played anywhere in Russia.