Lost and Found MAG

August 5, 2008
By Anonymous

I liked being a mess. The desk that should have been clear so I could do my homework was always besieged with bowls of cereal and spoiled milk, old magazines, and Post-it notes I had forgotten to remember. My floor was a vacuum in itself, eating anything entering my room. It consumed sweaters, stuffed animals, socks, shoes. When I occasionally did laundry, I would dig up clothes I couldn't even recall purchasing. My shelves overflowed with containers of little odds and ends: hair bands, chapstick, matches, loose mints, coins, earring backings. I couldn't always see these things, but I knew that they were safe, nestled somewhere on a shelf. Like old friends in a phone book, I figured that someday I would find all the loose strings and tie them together.

One lonely day in August when all of my friends had yet to return from camp in Maine, visiting family in Florida, or some community-service trip in Mexico, something inside me began to itch. I tried taking a shower, scrubbing myself with every bodywash and bar of soap I could find. I brushed my hair and my teeth, but didn't feel any cleaner. I checked my e-mail, which was empty. I checked the DVR to see if any new shows had been recorded, but I had already seen everything.

I went downstairs and found my brother playing video games, my mom on the phone, and my dad in his office – everyone in their right place. I told my mom that something didn't feel right, and she suggested that for once I should clean my room. The thought itself made me nauseous. I went upstairs to sulk, feeling so overwhelmed that I might as well have been floundering without a boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

When I opened the door to my bedroom, everything was in its usual cluttered arrangement. A plate of half-eaten pancakes sat on my desk, soggy with syrup from the morning. My bikini hung lifelessly from my doorknob, dripping pool water. My heavy covers lay crumpled and cold across my bed, molded by the twists and turns of the previous night. Piles of dirty clothes sat unsorted, collecting dust.

I stood in the middle of the cluttered room, breathing in the filthy air that I had become so used to. In the silence of that moment, I began to hear the clock ticking. I became aware of the moldy smell. I noticed that a spider had spun a shimmering line from my lamp to the top of my mirror. I shivered in disgust. I remembered that winter how my stuffed animal, Vanilla, had fallen behind my dresser and I hadn't noticed until I caught the repulsive scent of her fur burning against the heater, until it was too late and she was permanently covered in brown spots.

I suddenly felt sympathy for everything in my room that I had buried, never to be seen again. Lost items I had blocked out for years made their way back into my consciousness: my favorite yellow tank top, the picture of my mom and me on that boat in Jamaica, my baseball card collection.

I had an urge to dive under my bed and uncover everything lurking in the murky depths of dust, and to climb up into the highest corners of my closet and rescue items that had been mingling with the spiders. The innocent piles were growing higher and higher until they were looming monsters before my eyes. They were threatening to swallow me whole. I had to get rid of them. And so I started to clean.

In a box buried under old textbooks, I found a letter that my Poppy had written me at camp. I hadn't thought of him since his funeral. I suddenly remembered the thrill of running naked through cold sprinklers with my cousins, the spicy smell of barbecue mixing with the salty air at his beach house, and the distinct feel of his soft sweater rubbing warmly against my cheek each time he enveloped me in a hug. I remembered my dad rocking me to sleep the night Poppy died, and how the tears wouldn't stop.

I sat with his picture, blocking out the rest of the mess around me. I was in the middle of a storm, but I sat there and studied him until I had memorized every line in his face. Tears began to roll down my cheeks again, and the relief was like the sound of heavy rain pounding on a roof at the end of a drought.

In the drawer next to my bed, I found a friendship bracelet my childhood best friend, Aubrey, had given to me before she moved to California. I traced the green and purple pattern with my thumb, realizing that I hadn't spoken to her in years. The next day I called her, and we talked all night, laughing about memories like dressing up as the Spice Girls for Halloween. She reminded me of the time we built a family of snowmen in my backyard and had a funeral for them when they'd melted. I had lost so many precious childhood memories over time, letting them slip away into the tide like grains of sand. It was the kind of conversation you never want to end because for each moment we talked, it felt like a bucket collecting droplets of water from a leak.

Under my bed I even found that picture of my mom and me in Jamaica. I had forgotten how turquoise the water had looked from our ship, but what really caught my attention, though, was my image. I had buck teeth, short hair, and pimples covering my face. I stared at that girl, barely able to recognize this person who had drowned in the mess of my room so many years before. I decided to completely re­organize and revamp my room so that all the books, belts, and baskets were in their right place. It was like finding the missing pieces of the puzzle.

The finishing touch was framing that photo and hanging it high up on my wall. After all, it was me I had been searching for.



Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 301 comments.


on Jul. 28 2015 at 4:55 pm
SomeoneMagical PLATINUM, Durham, New Hampshire
22 articles 1 photo 260 comments
Great work! I would like it but it says I already liked it...and I swear I've never been on this page before. Creepy. Anyway, good job! I hope you continue vbeing a fantastic writer of memoirs or whatever they're called. :)

on Jul. 4 2015 at 10:46 am
Campbell Holmes, Marietta, Georgia
0 articles 0 photos 2 comments
I really liked this!Your use of imagery was great,and helped me see what you were going for!

Dat_swag_tho said...
on Jun. 19 2015 at 12:05 pm
So unique with lots of emotion falling inside your and our hearts, keep up the awesome work.

on Jun. 17 2015 at 12:42 am
Whimsical_Bluejay_Of_The_Night BRONZE, West Melbourne, Florida
1 article 0 photos 16 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."
-Edgar Allan Poe

I really enjoyed this! You have a lot of talent and are a great story-teller. You also have a unique way of observing symbols (I doubt that made any sense, sorry lol)

Balomew BRONZE said...
on Jun. 12 2015 at 12:24 pm
Balomew BRONZE, Union, Maine
2 articles 0 photos 5 comments

Favorite Quote:
I am stronger than this challenge, and this challenge will make me even stronger.

This was amazing beyond words. You have some serious talent! I can so completely relate to this. As an emotion person, I was very moved by this piece. Thank you for sharing it with us.

on May. 21 2015 at 11:27 am
It was amazing:-)

gracey.gov said...
on May. 8 2015 at 9:51 am
this was in a way...kinda sad, i mean you had so many loved things that you had lost and forgot for so many years, like loved photo's and charished memory's.

on Apr. 8 2015 at 11:47 pm
GirlWhoWrites PLATINUM, Littleton, Colorado
23 articles 0 photos 12 comments
I loved this! This is me and my room!

on Apr. 7 2015 at 2:29 pm
I liked how you kept the pace constant and the diction you used was supportive to the story. I also like the say you ended your story. Continue with the good work!

on Mar. 6 2015 at 1:15 am
TheDolphin ELITE, Iloilo, Other
216 articles 11 photos 52 comments
I really love the last line............... so meaningful and true

on Feb. 12 2015 at 1:58 pm
ImAnApostolic, Coalinga, California
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
~The best is yet to come and may the odd be in your favor. Never hesitate to keep on walking because after every storm will always come the sun.

WOW so amazing. I understand every detail you have prescribed. Especially the last sentence you said about, " After all it was me I have been searching for. That's how everything may end up in some peoples life if you don't change before it gets worse. Don't let the roots of a bad seed spread in your life. I love the way you described every detail and made it seem like I was actually there in your room picturing every little thing I seen. Very good job keep it up. Don't wait till the monsters arrive, clean them up when they are little spiders. Well not even when you see the dust start to settle.

on Jan. 31 2015 at 2:19 pm
That was amazing!

austin529 said...
on Jan. 15 2015 at 9:23 am
its not bad but it makes the author seem nasty cause she/he is probably 2.5talking about the selves

on Nov. 26 2014 at 8:04 pm
Liv.Harris ELITE, Dardenne Prairie, Missouri
315 articles 10 photos 1156 comments

Favorite Quote:
"To these the past hath its phantoms,
More real than solid earth;
And to these death does not mean decay,
But only another birth"
- Isabella Banks

So beatufulm and symbolic. :) You did a great job on this piece, and congrats on getting published and winning a contest! I loved this soooo much!

astridelc said...
on Nov. 12 2014 at 9:32 pm
astridelc, Matthews, North Carolina
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
"I think if you feel like you were born to write, then you probably were."

Soooo well written!

Victoria said...
on Oct. 13 2014 at 5:27 pm
I just loved this memoir. it was inspirational.

on Sep. 26 2014 at 1:35 pm
I Can Relate To THis LIke Totaly

starblazer said...
on Sep. 26 2014 at 1:34 pm
Thank god my room is't like that!

on Sep. 26 2014 at 1:33 pm
My rooms a mess, ill find so many lost memories under my bed.

on Sep. 23 2014 at 6:00 pm
easleydriller98, Easley, South Carolina
0 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
“Really it comes down to your philosophy. Do you want to play it safe and be good or do you want to take a chance and be great?”

Jimmy J

i can totally relate!


SciArc

MacMillan Books

Aspiring Writer? Take Our Online Course!