The bedroom was, in essence, a tribute to its owner’s lax cleaning habits. An unkempt bed stood prominently by the entrance of the room. Its many pillows and blankets gave off an aroma of repeated use without wash, and were strewn about haphazardly over its ruffled sheets. At its foot lay a sizable assortment of stuffed animals scattered across the floor, lacking a better place to stay. A lonely green backpack filled to the brim with garments and gadgets rested on the carpet nearby, longing to be put to use or relieved of its burden. Across the floor, a similarly burdened cardboard box overflowing with hastily tidied books and electronics lay basking in the shadow of a towering bookshelf blanketed in forgotten souvenirs and broken earbuds. A drawer stood inconspicuously next to the bookshelf, covered in a blanket of knickknacks that was perhaps bigger than that of its taller, book-bearing cousin. The drawer was illuminated by an open window sitting just above. The light that cascaded through the entire room was eternally dimmed by a half-open set of blinds that were broken and would never stay fixed, a testament to the state of the room it shaded. The entire room was, no doubt, well loved, but it wasn’t particularly well cared for.