Right off of the side of a little girl’s room, there is a little white door. It is strangely smaller than all of the other doors in her house. When they first moved in, her parents told her that the small door was made especially for her. It would be a special room, for her use only. No one else would be able to enter, no matter how much they wanted to; only the little girl was small enough to fit through the door. Not a soul has witnessed the inside of this little room, other than the girl, and according to her, it is simply magical.
The curiously little white door leads to a little room, a little checkered room to be more precise. A little checkered room, where the floors are covered with little black and white squares, which like to dance on occasion, when the sun shines through the window and they think no one is looking. And inside of this little checkered room, there is a little black sink, which sits upon a little black cupboard. The sink and the cupboard are said to be the best of friends, and from time to time, can be caught chattering quietly and laughing to themselves. Beside the two friends rests a little black toilet. Across from the little black toilet there is a little pink shower, lined with little black tiles. The black toilet is quite the gossiper, and claims that the reason that the shower is so pink is that she is always blushing from embarrassment, though the cause of the embarrassment, he does not know. And next to the little pink shower, there is a little white bathtub. And inside of that little, perfectly molded white bathtub sits the little girl, singing.
This little girl, who is sitting in her little bathtub, does not use bathrooms traditionally. She is not bathing nor is she soaking in the water, in fact, there is no water running in the room at all (and there rarely ever is). The only sound that can be heard is the little girl’s quiet voice, singing a melody she heard on the television that day from a jingle advertising cotton balls. The little girl spends hours on end in her checkered room. Most of the time she is singing little songs that she heard on the radio to herself in the little mirror that stands above the little black sink. Other times she can be found taking naps on the fuzzy little black carpet that lies at the foot of the little black cupboard. The fuzzy little black carpet fits her tiny body perfectly on its soft surface, as if it was manufactured just for her. Occasionally she brushes her long curly black hair in the little mirror above the little black sink.
When she gets tired of her solitude, and starts to feel lonely, the little girl sits down on the little black cupboard and talks to her friend in the little mirror. Her friend is quite silent, but to the girl, she seems nice enough. At times the girl gets a bit annoyed with her friend, for she is constantly mimicking her and copying her hair styles. But regardless of her flaws, the girl loves her friend, for she always listens to what the girl has to say. It is comforting to know that there will always be someone there for her in her magical room, and that she does not always have to sit alone. The face in the mirror is the closest thing to a friend that the girl has ever known.
On rainy days, the girl takes a little warm blanket into her little checkered room, and sits in the little white bathtub, and simply thinks. She thinks of her wishes and goals, her dreams and her life, her aspirations, until the rain stops. And when the rain stops, the little girl walks up to the little black toilet, and pulls away the little white curtain that has been hiding her from the big green tress outside. She opens the little white window, and lets the smell of the big grey clouds flood into the room along with a big gust of wind. She knows it is time to go. She opens the little white door, and steps into her big beige room, sits at her big brown desk, and returns to her life, no longer a little girl, but a young woman.