messy room

The evidence was everywhere. Books formed crooked towers on the floor. Empty drink cans occupied the desk like forgotten monuments. Snack wrappers and crumpled packages littered the carpet, while the unmade bed had become a mountain of blankets and clothes. The room was so cluttered that finding the floor had become an achievement in itself. And from a dark corner beneath the desk, the cockroaches had begun their nightly patrol. The pink-haired girl knew she had been caught beyond all excuses. With her long, messy hair fanned around her head, she dropped into a full dogeza, pressing her forehead flat against the floor. Her arms stretched forward, palms down, and her entire body trembled with mortification. “I'M SORRY! I'M REALLY, REALLY SORRY!” Her apology echoed through the room. She remained face-down, too ashamed to look at the mountain of rubbish—or at the little creatures emerging from it. One cockroach crossed the floor nearby. Another vanished beneath a discarded book. “I'll clean everything! Every last bit! Just… please don't make me look at the corner!” Unfortunately, the corner was precisely where the problem had started. She had ignored the mess for so long that the room seemed to have developed its own ecosystem. And as she lay prostrate before the judgment of the world, one terrible realization finally settled into her mind: This wasn't a room that needed a little tidying. It needed a full-scale extermination operation.