A Place to Sleep

A Place to Sleep
By
Cam
I am confinement in knowing that no matter how bad life gets I will have a surface to lay my back against. Some thing to support me when the rest of my body gives out. It maybe hard or soft but a bed will always be there.
I had bed when I was first born in my mother’s am her skin was very warm. Now I can’t remember much on the day I was first alive. I believe though my mom looked at me though loving eyes. When I was but a few days old my mom put me in a bassinette next to her bed. Though I probably fussed. Still she kept me with her and my dad in first bed at home.
The first bed that I can remember clearly is one whose frame was made completely out of wood. It was stacked on top my brothers. I have many great memories of my bunk be from hanging of the top with just one arm to dropping a class on my ankle on Halloween. Around that time I started to get used to another type of bed. A sleeping bag where a spent many weekend nights.
A short while latter we move to a new home and I had room all to mine own. My bed at that time was a mattress on the floor. After one year there my dad had died. I lay on the bed and cried. I don’t remember a lot about that year. Just that I couldn’t wait to get in my bed and dream about him being near. For four years I stayed in that bed
Then my mom got remarried to someone whom was a tyrant over the family he led. At first I slept on the floor of this mans fake house. Till he built a new room an I got the hand me downs. Those two years I lived in absolute fear. That I would slip up and find my myself homeless and the man would not shed a tear.
It was with great relief that I found my next bed all made of metal with a star wars comforter on top. My collage where all the same in each dorm room. Giving the small bit of comfort after an attempt at studying. After four years and a lack luster degree I found myself in my current bed. Though my room is sloppy and my brother constantly nags it’s a great comfort at the end of the day.
I know in the future that I have two more special beds. One will be sheared by some one special I hope. My last bed will be made of wood. It will be lined with satin and have satin pillows. There will be handles on the side and a door on top. But this one bed that I myself wont get see. For while a small part of me may look asleep in there. I will be awake, happy and free.