My bed is my escape

Mike Short '12

Hang on for a minute...we're trying to find some more stories you might like.

Email This Story

It’s my escape, barely big enough to fit me, but that makes it perfectly snug. It is mine, all mine and no one else’s. It is where most people say they feel completely safe, like an invisible shield locking in your tranquility and serenity. What is this magical place I speak of? My bed.

            Morning, noon, and night is never the wrong time. I always look forward to having a quick nap after the last bell. In it I talk to friends, complete homework, and of course, snooze. Whenever I get sick of people, it is the best place to isolate myself while I have a cool down and think for awhile. My bed is more than just a bed, for it can be my best friend allowing me to cry on it when I’m having a plain awful day. It is where my opinions change after a long hard discussion with my conscience and my instincts. My bed is where I am safe.

            My pillow is huge. It wraps around my head like giant marshmallow. Oh yes, a giant marshmallow, a very soft giant marshmallow. It’s a piece of heaven that was made just for me. I never use my blanket and quilt at the same time. I always kick one onto the floor; one cover is plenty. Only in the skin-chapping winter do I acquire both to go hand in hand like Ying and Yang. Accompanying my bed is my standing fan. Its cool waves of air intensify the sleeping experience as I dream.

            Not only does my bed let me sleep, but it holds many memories. In this bed I’ve read letters from organizations that wanted to take me places. I’ve read some of my now favorite books. I’ve even had the infamous “talk” about the birds and the bees. But the most important thing I do in my bed is my philosophic thinking. I wonder about why we’re here on Earth, what happens when we die, and do we even exist at all? Or is life just a dream of some sort; and is everything not real? These things I may eventually figure out thanks to my bed.

            Without my bed, I’d go insane. My bed allows me to do so much more than you can possible conceive. I’d have nowhere to sleep, to calm down, or to think. Can your bed do what mine can do?