Writing About Something I've Come Back to: Our Rooms (to be continued)

      My room was always smaller than Kayla’s. Somehow, even though I’m the older sibling, I got stuck with a room almost half the size of hers. [add something here about coming from the old house that I don’t remember]. I guess she needed the space. While m room was cleaned and organized at least every weekend, Kayla’s progressively got messier. There were rare occasions when I could see her floor or make my way across to her closet where I would hide a plastic snake. Those were the times when Mom would bring up a few trashbags from downstairs, come into Kayla’s room, and threaten to start throwing away anything that wasn’t organized or put away. Sometimes they would clean her room for two days and still end up with three bags of trash to throw out. Most of the time, though, I didn’t venture in there for fear of stepping on something important buried deep within the layers of worn and unworn clothes. She had a massive work desk in the back corner of the room where she made “concoctions.” She would mix dish soap, hydrochloric acid, radishes from the garden, some body lotion, candle wax, brown sugar, and dandelion leaves into a bubbling new “skin care product.” She always made me try it.