Pink Vomit Walls

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"Mom, is this my room?" I gulp. She looks at me with worried eyes, then she runs at me and smiles, " Yes it is Mia, I know it's a little small but you can make do." She looks at me waiting for a reply.
"It's not about how big or small the room is, it's just... why is the room so... pink?" I ask. When I was in elementary school I could barely tolerate pink but my mother always insisted I had tried to wear it more or put on a dress but here is the thing, I hate the color pink, and the word. It just doesn't look right to me, P.I.N.K.
See! It reminds me of vomit slightly. I have vomit walls. The point is, I'm not a girly girl.
" Well the crowning is black... we don't have time to paint over your walls Mia. I guess it is just something you will have to live with, I mean we probably won't even be staying here for more than five years!" She exclaimed.
I roll my eyes, "fine." I mutter. I can always cover my vomit walls with black and posters and drawings. As long as that would be settled, my room could end up being entirely black and white. The crowning on my walls was nice and black but the vomit colored walls ruined it. I quickly dig through my moving boxes searching for a picture or painting to hang on the wall. I pull out of the blue box a painting from 7th grade in which I thought I had destroyed, a black painting that said in rainbow letters "love is love is love is love." until the once blank canvas was filled with the repeating sentence or darkness. Doubting whether or whether not to hang it up I look at the wall, covered in vomit, gross and pink, I bang a nail into the wall and hang up my painting.

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