The Struggle Of Cleaning

As I stared out into the cold, unforgiving world before me, I felt a twinge of anger run through my body. "Why me?" I asked, knowing I would not recieve an answer. For God had forgotten me, left me here, alone. The rapture had come and all but I were saved. A single tear slipped from my eye, gently rolling down my cheek. "Pull yourself together," I said to myself. "You can do this." I bent down, reaching my hand outward. My fingers grasped the soft cotton T-shirt on the floor before me. Lifting it to my face, I smelled the foulness of a thousand rotting corpses. Recoiling in disgust, I tossed the shirt into the green plastic basket I had brought with me.

"Dylan! are you cleaning your room yet?" called out my Mom. "yea!" I replied, suppresing the tears. The single shirt I had removed had little effect on the wasteland that was my bedroom. All across the floor, foul smelling items of clothing were spread about, covering the stained carpet below. My bed was an unmade mess, sheets torn from their homes and strewn across the mattress. On the blue bedside table sat decaying food: bits of sandwich, pizza from last week, milk that was now cheese. I was afraid to go near that area.

I was overwhelmed by the fear of this task, but knowing it was to late to quit now, I pressed on. My eyes came to a pair of jeans. As I picked them up, I noticed the stains covering the legs. Pizza sauce, ketchup, several unknown substances covering every inch of the denim. I tossed the pants into the basket, hoping they would be clean next time we met.

"I cant do this." I thought to myself, "It's too much." "No! You CAN do this!" I said out loud, knowing it was a lie. "Maybe there is another way." I thought. I walked over to my bed and sat down, thinking. first, I said a silent prayer, begging for the room to clean itself. When that yieded no effect, i went on to plan B: take a nap.

I awoke several hours later with a sharp pain in my back. Rolling over, I realized I had been sleeping on an xbox controller. The room was still filthy, maybe worse than when I started. I had to think of somthing, and quick, because a new episode of Family Guy was coming on at eight and I didn't want to miss it. I grabbed another filthy T-shirt that stank of orphan tears, tossing it into the basket, which now held three whole articles of clothing. I felt a sense of relief. I was now 1/1000 of the way done, which was good enough for me.

The satisfaction wore off after picking up my fifth clothing item. "There must be another way!" I called out to all that would listen, the poster of Marilyn Manson seemed to agree. "But how?" I sat down to ponder this question. Searching my room for inspiration, I came across several ideas. The Halo poster seemed to indicate I could shoot the mess. "No, that won't work." I said, disappointed in Master Chief.

Other posters yielded equally bad ideas. As I was about to give up hope on my paper friends, I noticed the In Flames poster. "That's it!" I shouted with joy, "I can burn the mess!" Without a second thought I grabbed a lighter off my bedside table, careful not to touch the maggot infested hot dog. I grabbed a pair of boxers and held the flame to them. The flames quickly consumed the undergarments, destroying all evidence they ever existed. "What's burning?" asked my Mom from outside the door. "Nothing." I lied. But she didnt believe me. Slowly, my door began to open. I looked at the raging inferno, which had now consumed a pair of jeans and part of my bed sheet. Thinking quickly, I began swatting at the flames, trying to beat them into surrender.

Just as the door was almost open, I punched out the last flame, hiding all the proof that a fire had taken place here. I turned to look at my Mom, a smile on my face. "Yes mother dearest?" I said. She looked around the apocalyptic wasteland that is my room, stopping on the smoke rising from my bed. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but just shook her head and left.

"Probably should have thought that through." I said to the half man half... somthing on the In Flames poster. Now half my room looked like the inside of an ash tray, still an inprovement though. All hope seemed to be lost, the only way I could clean this room was if I picked up every single piece of trash, and I did NOT want to do that. As I pondered the value of living in such a cold and dark world, something caught my eye, somthing that took my attention completely away from the impossible task ahead of me.It was my arch nemesis, the spider. But this wasn't any ordinary spider, no, I knew this spider. He had been taunting me for months now, showing up every day just to mock me. No matter what I threw at him, he was always one step ahead, dodging every blow, blocking every kick, tuning out every insult. He was invincible. I had given him the name Ivan the Unsquishible, a name I hoped to one day prove wrong.

"Well, we meet again." I said, trying to sound brave, even though every inch of my body was screaming for me to run. He stared at me, unspeaking. I had been preparing for this moment for hours, planning out the perfect stratigy to finally rid the world of this foul beast. First, I called him a series of words i will not repeat. He remained silent, trying to seem unaffected by my harsh insults, but deep down I knew that I had hurt his feelings, for no living creature could possibly ignore what I had said.

The next phase of my plan was to distract him so I could make the final blow. "Look over there!" I screamed, pointing to my left. He didn't move, but I was sure he was looking. "Perfect." I thought. Now for the finishing move. I quickly tore my cellphone from my pocket, and in one swift action, threw it with all my might. I missed.

The Iphone slammed into the wall with a soul crushing "thud". I watched through tearful eyes as the now broken phone lay motionless on the floor. Ivan was still silent, but I knew exactly what he was thinking. "Haha, you missed! You didn't even hit the right wall." And, of course, he was right. I had throne my phone in a completely different direction from Ivan. I can't explain why, it's just what I did. With my plan now in pieces along with my phone, my heart and any chance of playing Angry Birds ever again, all seemed lost.

I tore my gaze from the lifeless husk of a phone and directed all my hatred onto Ivan. My vision was blurred by the tears streaming down my face, but my target was clear. I walked over to my desk, grabbed my TV and ripped it from its resting place. I then threw the small plasma screen through the air, directly at Ivan. It slammed into the wall about four feet below him. Not yet willing to give up, I next took the Xbox in my hands. I threw it across the room with all the force I could muster, and watched as it broke into a million pieces a mere two feet below Ivan.

I was now out of electronics to throw, but not out of ideas. I picked up one of the black crutches I kept by the door. Gripping it like a warrior would grip his spear, I lunged forward, smashing my weapon into the plaster wall. This time I came close to him, only inches away. He no longer felt he could sit in one place and scurried across the wall. Again I slammed the crutch into the wall, and again I came only inches from killing my enemy. I was in a bloodrage, sending a string of blows and hateful words at Ivan. But he continued to evade being squished, quickly dodging each of my strikes just seconds before impact. The rage continued to build more and more with each strike, eventully going into a state of unconcious fury. I awoke from my bloodrage several hours later. Looking around my room, every inch of wall was destroyed, every surface smashed, everything I owned had been sacrificed in an attempt to squish Ivan the Unsquishable. My entire family had entered the room at some point during the battle, they stared at me in disbelief, like I had lost my mind. Taking a look at my watch, I walked out of the room, down the stairs, and to the couch, it was time for Family Guy.