My mom is always telling me about what a mess my room is. My books are everywhere except where they should be, my clothes are strewn around and there is always a half-eaten biscuit/fruit or a splash of fruit juice on the floor.

My bedcover is always crumpled and the covers are missing from the pillows. The bed itself is hidden underneath all sorts of junk. The room is taken over by tiny life forms, such as cockroaches, spiders and bugs. I don’t mind them a bit, but everyone avoids my room because of them.

One day, tired of tripping over things and having to search for my bed every night, I decided to clean it. I scooped some things from the floor and dumped them on the bed. I would clear it up later. I tried to scrape off something yucky from the sofa, but it was very stubborn. I realised that I would have to scrub the sofa with soapy water.

I went to the terrace and filled a tub with water. I added washing powder and lifted it. BANG! It almost fell on my foot! I was reduced to dragging it all the way to the bedroom. Then I went to find a suitable brush for scrubbing.

When I came back, the whole floor was wet. My dragging seemed to have caused a crack in the tub, and all the soapy water had leaked out, thoroughly soaking the things on the floor, which, by the way, were many. I grabbed a blouse and frantically tried to stop the leakage. My blouse was soaked in a second. I desperately lifted the tub again, this time to drop it hard on my toe. Hopping on one foot, I dragged it back to the terrace. Trails of soapy water were left behind. Slipping and slithering over them I went back to my room.

I pulled the bed sheet, and trillions of things tumbled town from the bed onto the floor. I sorted out all the clothes and threw them in my closet. To my intense frustration, the door of the closet wouldn’t close. I took a belt and tied up the closet by the handle. It would be a long time before I’d open it again.

I turned back to the junk piled all around me. I found an old battered alarm clock and threw it unceremoniously in the wastepaper basket. After disposing some broken decoration pieces and toys, I discovered another small hidden pile of clothes. Infuriated, I untied the belt and opened the closet. All its contents avalanched onto my feet.

After I had shut the closet doors again, I sorted out pieces of paper and old notebooks from the pile. Scooping them up, I went to my brother’s room and dumped them on his bed. I valiantly probed into the steadily shrinking mountain of trash in my room. I plunged my hand deeper and felt something soft and mushy. After wrenching my hand free, I found I was holding a green, mouldy burger. When did I last eat a burger? I couldn’t remember. I couldn’t decide what to do with it so I stuffed it under the duvet in my mom’s bedroom.

I was getting tired and exhausted now. Mom has to do this every day? I shuddered at the thought. Frustrated, tired and hungry, I shoved the remaining mess into a huge litter bag and, after untying the closet again, stuffed it in. Now I had another problem. The closet was too small! I opened them again, pushed the things deeper inside and quickly tied shut the doors.

Later that day, when I was enjoying the use of my bed again, Mom came in. She opened the door, and after one look at the room, screamed and dropped the stack of freshly laundered clothes that she was holding. She leaned against the door and gasped.

“Wha…what…who... what miracle…What’s got into you?!”

I merely smiled, hoping against hope she won’t go to the closet.

“My darling girl, let’s go to the ice cream parlour as a treat. I still have trouble believing... Did you tidy up your closet as well?” And before I could stop her, she had crossed the room and had tugged at the handles, causing the belt to loosen and fall to the floor. A second later, she was buried knee-deep in wet, smelly clothes, rotting bits of food and other rubbish.

Needless to say, we did not go to the ice cream parlour that day or even the next. In situations like this my mom can turn into Professor McGonagall and a battalion commander all rolled into one. I got a series of detentions that would have made Professor Snape envious. I not only had to clean my room but my brother’s as well while also receiving strict instructions regarding sofa scrubbing, floor washing, dusting, vacuuming, disinfecting and where dirty clothes need to go.

The upside of the whole experience is that my room looks and smells wonderful, I can invite my friends to my home without embarrassment and I am on speaking terms with my mom once more. I am still waiting for my trip to the ice cream parlour though!