make it simple to last your whole life long

It is very early.
I never meant to get up so early, but it happened quite by accident and it's no use going back to bed now.
My legs are curled up beneath me on my 14th birthday chair and my feet are cold. The rest of me is warm though, warmed from inside out with the coffee in my dad's big silver mug. Breakfast is underway downstairs, with sleepy voices and clinking spoons floating up the stairs and through my door, which stands half open. Someone just raised the blinds in the room next door. Bththththththda!
My feet are very cold.
This desk is small, smaller than any other desk in the house, and there are big fancy ones in the garage which I have been pressed to use. They wanted to take away my little red-brown desk. The wood doesn't match my room colors, and besides, it's just a desk. It only has two drawers and one is missing a nob. Thankfully it's the bottom drawer, so it still opens just fine. I don't know what's wrong with it. The flat surface is scattered with my things, signature things that are mine and me, like this desk. My perfume, a tall bottle standing quite near the edge of the desk on the side by the door. A spoon from yesterday's pudding is laying near it, licked clean as new. The borrowed volume of a classic novel lays open face-down in front of my computer screen, the silky red book mark curving upwards in a twisty "S." My pencil cup is empty.
The clock ticks so loudly from here.
Behind me is the narrow passage way between my shelf and bed. It's a little shelf, with a very big window over it. The blinds are turned a peachy shade of pink as the sun comes up. My bed is made, pillows fluffed, the four tall posts casting deep shadows in the light of the little lamp on the window sill. An ancient dresser, the wood a deep mahogany that does not mach my desk, stands in the furthest corner, a flecked and smudged mirror on the wall above it. Every bottle and treasure box cast shadows twice their size. The only real light in the room comes from the smaller window above my bed, where a twilight gray sky is slowly growing blue.
It is almost time to go.
Directly ahead, on my wall, is the splattered canvas of all that makes me smile. Sweet sixteen birthday pictures. The Double Mint girls from a gum advertisement. Lucy stepping into Narnia, in theaters December 9th. Necklaces dangling from little nails by the light switch. It is all so full of joy, all so very quiet. The crack at the edge of my blinds is suddenly filled with a peircing ray of sunlight.
It is time to go.