Mum and Dad’s Bedroom

NaPoWriMo 28 Brief: Describe a bedroom from your past.

I am in my mum and dad’s bedroom
With the big sash window
Looking out on the road
Where the busses pass by.
You can stand in the dusty sunlight
And see Armley Jail in the distance

Mum and dad’s bedroom had a big bit taken out
From when we got the stairs to the attic put in
Which left a weird under-the-stairs bit
Where dad put his knitting machine

It also had another bit taken out
From when I punched the wall one time
But let’s not go into that
Teenagers are a nightmare
And it was a stud wall.

Mum and dad’s bedroom had two wardrobes
And a landline telephone on a book shelf
Which I used to call mum at her house
When we found dad that morning

Mum and dad’s bedroom had brown curtains
Like all the other rooms in the house
And a double bed in the middle.
Dad kept a toilet roll on the bed knob on his side
Nothing says, ‘come to bed, darling’ like a toilet roll on a doorknob

Underneath mum and dad’s bed there were drawers with wheels
One side had mum’s shoes
The other side had old photos
If I remember correctly
Which often I don’t.

In the morning it was incredibly good fun to tickle dad’s toes
And watch him recoil with a grunt
I think he liked it
I ‘think’
Well, we liked it anyway

After work, mum would lie with her feet up the wall
Having a few minutes of ‘quiet time’
Which usually coincided with us ‘needing’ something

On the morning that we found dad
We didn’t tickle his toes
We crept out and got the neighbours to deal with him
Because we didn’t know what to do

Mum and dad’s bedroom went through many phases
First it was mum and dad’s
And then it was dad’s
And then it was mum’s
And now it is somebody else’s

It’s strange how a place can be your whole life
And then it gets sold
And it’s not yours at all any more
And you know that it’s not yours
That it’s somebody else’s
But at the same time,
It will always be yours

I guess that is the deal with haunted houses
We’re no longer in mum and dad’s bedroom
But then here I am,
Haunting it
I’m not even dead yet
And I’m haunting that house

The thing is,
It can be hard to let go

I bet it’s even harder for the dead.

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