My creepy bedroom

If you've been reading my blog since last year, I'm pretty sure you've read the post about how I'm really just a coward despite going through so much. [link]

So I've been wanting to write about this one thing in my everyday life which is actually creepy, but which I've gotten used to, that's why it doesn't scare me much: my bedroom.

The whole year I was at Paya Lebar, none of my family members slept in my room, despite there being a comfortable double bed which I'm pretty sure my dad would have liked. If not, my little brother would have, because it's about time he sleeps on his own anyway.

When questioned, he simply said, "Honestly, your room has this creepy atmosphere about it, which I just can't describe."

I didn't deny or think he was crazy, because I knew what he was talking about. Before I left in 2012, it was where I sat crying and cutting and doing other crazy things in lieu with my depression back then. Perhaps the tension in my bedroom was caused by those haunting emotions and memories.

As if those demons weren't enough, I'm pretty sure that more have settled in here during my absence since then. What more with nobody coming in here the whole year, how its door remained shut for the whole year.

I doubt the windows were ever open either, because of the mosquitoes constantly coming in, and the howling of the wind that sounds too creepily unnatural.

Yes, when I came back here to Pasir Ris about a month ago, I could feel a difference, like it had gotten more abandoned and dark. I'm not sure how to describe it either, it's just a difference I felt in something I'd grown accustomed to.

I just find it amazing that despite being such a coward who finds a need to sleep in my parents room each time I see just a scary picture, I'm the only one who can handle the pure creepiness of my own room. And yes, I'd like to know what is it that makes my room hella creepy, that even my parents feel it.