Messy. Very messy. And small. A couch against one wall, a bed against another, a dresser against the third, and the last available wall taken by a humongous chestnut desk. Clothes everywhere: on the black desk chair, under the bed, strewn across the floor. The mess makes it seem smaller, as does the two large animal cages. A three-by-four rabbit hutch and a two-by-one hamster pen snatch up any available sitting space. On the dresser is piles of clothes, an empty box of tissues, and important papers that should probably be kept somewhere safe.
The desk is even more crowded than the dresser. Notebooks and textbooks. Framed photos and water bottles. Two computers, a laptop and a desktop. A labyrinth of cords and wires tangled around each other. Scissors and tweezers. A bottle opener and a pocket knife. Pens and erasers and lip balm and paper clips. Good luck trying to find anything.

Across the top of the couch is a line of stuffed animals. Their beady eyes stare out the window and at the small tree growing outside. Along the windowsill is incense sticks and rose petals, scattered in an artful display. Under the window is the bed. Five pillows, three blankets, and a stuffed rabbit hugging a cloth carrot to his chest.

A messy, tiny, crowded room. But my favorite room, because it is the room of my most precious possession. Not the stuffed animals or the framed photos or the rose petals. This room holds my most precious thing. You.