Messy Room
Joshua, Age 11, Warsaw, Poland

Nobody has ever entered my room and survived beside me. Once when we were gone, my alarm was on and a piece of week old red cheese with green tentacles moved setting off the alarm; the second the SWAT team barged into my room. They fainted. Talk about a sight! Unfortunately that is not the worst of my junkyard. Last year by the far bravest cleaning lady decided to clean what cannot be cleaned. I found her a week later rotting with some orange chocolate milk under miles of clothes.

Next thing you know youíre under trial for fifth degree murder. Fortunately though when the jury came to inspect the crime sceneÖ well letís say now they are in no manís land.

Sadly because of the weight of my room the floor collapsed. But now I have plasma TV, two levels and now my sister doesnít dare watch any TV. Still I havenít even described the upper level of my room. The fungal stench doesnít allow me to even open my eyes (thatís how dirty the upper level of this monstrosity is), talk about going to sleep. I have tuna sandwiches dancing with my shoes, a Venus fly sandwich trap with eleven meter tentacles, Monster spaghetti strands and electric jelly sandwiches. That is the last time I open my eyes in the upper level of my room.

The lower level is a natural disaster. Fortunately I actually open my eyes here. Luckily there are no monsters down here but the toxic air prevents me from staying here for more than 10 seconds. Though life here is scares, it gets up to 60 degrees Celsius at midday killing everything. That is because the floor is a mix of ripped up hardwood, cracked sticking up pipes and green air. That is the gas bomb that I call lower level.

First I have been warned by my parents, then by the health inspector and now I am getting death threats from the government.

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