The white door is almost closed besides the tiny sliver of pink light coming through. Entering, it looks like an explosion of pink and a tornado happened all at once the night previous. In every inch of this bedroom, there was something with the hue of pink. A queen bed stands beside the middle of the baby pink wall with hot pink sheer crumpled curtains hanging from it and lights swinging from one side of the bed frame to the other. The sheets that must have been made during some point of its lifetime were going three different directions. The pink and orange bubbled sheet was falling off the right side of the bed, the same patterned comforter pulled up over to cover the pink and orange polka dotted pillows, and the bright pink throw blanket with pom poms hanging from it is halfway off the left side of the bed. None of them touching. At the edge of the bed, a huge stuffed blonde dog is hanging over the rail and a pink beaded necklace is wrapped around the cold metal. On the other wall to the left is a big wooden Tansu with a huge red bow on the top. Next to that is a full length mirror where the outfit decision making happens. A huge quilt made by third graders hangs on the wall to remember the young days with the people who were thought of as friends. Skip a white double door leading to the bathroom and closet, both larger disasters than the bedroom, lays two desks. The desks mirrors the closet, random things strewn across the tables such as books, homework, CD’s, a variety of colors of nail polish, and picture frames. Obviously someone had been working hard, things are knocked over, drawers are open, the iPod speaker was still warm from blasting music that fit the mood, and everything is just completely unorganized. The now empty black cushioned chair is facing away from the desk. Look to the right, there are glass doors leading to my yard and large windows, now looking out to darkness, but when the daylight hits, you see tall Eucalyptus trees, and a view of San Francisco. Everything was still. The basket of clothes on the floor and the shoes thrown across it just laid there waiting for someone to come back. The door opens slowly. The black nose pokes through the only sliver of openness the door had, and shoves the door to the side. He walks in. Jumps on the bed and curls up, trying to find a comfortable position. My Golden Retriever fades into resting slumber.