My sister's power of messing up a room looks as if a messy fairy broke into my room, weilding her magic sticks and making sure everything was topsy-turvy–the books and paper scattering everywhere, the crispy white sheet were turned into a grey snake writhed in agony, all kinds of tubes and cups contented half of unknow liquid piling up on the table looked as if a franzy scientist had lived here.
A day's dairy
Now that I was away from my naughty cute sister, I can had her in memory that only to be relished when I walked in a lonely, autumn leaves covered alley or when bitterness brimmed over my heart during a sleepless night or when I feighted smile with the company of people who I don't like and did not mean to smile. This memory was so warm-hearted that was selected to hide in the boxes that I hided in the bottom of my heart.
Please forgive my off points to describe my own heart: it symolized the world outside, and it also had lake and lark, sea and shell, ancient trees and autumn leaves. It was in my heart where I build my spirit palace and it was worth to mention the library where I dreamed from reality. Millions of book could be found there, some only have title and waited to be fulfilled, some have its complete form but needed to be chewed and digested.
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