Remember Your Childhood Bedroom!

Imagination in childhood is powerful. For a short time, it shapes our lives but how we loose it..

I remember waking up in my bedroom, colours bursting all around me, toys of every shape and size waiting to be played with. Big smiles, bold eyes, and bright creatures greeted me each morning. Back then, even the smallest things seemed huge and magical.

But not everything was friendly. In the dark, shadows in the corner came alive, sometimes frightening me, giving me nightmares. By day, the room was a place of joy and adventure. At night, it became a space of mystery.

I played games, made up stories, and believed the toys could talk. They had voices only I could hear. Over time, as the years passed, those memories blurred. My bedroom changed into an adult’s room, filled with work, responsibilities, and little trace of my childhood wonder.

One night, I dreamed. Colours and shapes returned, strange noises whispered. When I woke, my room was different. I was no longer in my adult space, but back in the big, colourful room of my childhood. Toys surrounded me. I touched them—they were real. “This must be a dream,” I thought, pinching myself. But no, I was still there.

The toys moved, they spoke. Laughter echoed. Déjà vu swept over me. I had been here before, but I couldn’t remember when.

A flashback came.

Bridge: “I love you, Bluebell. Friends forever.”

Bluebell (giggles): “Me too.”

Mum: “Brigid, dinner time!”

I grabbed Bluebell, my childhood toy, and ran. “It’s okay, I won’t let them take you.”

Back in the present dream, noises rose again. From the corner, a dark shape loomed with bold, unblinking eyes. My heart pounded. Bluebell appeared, laughing strangely.

“Wait,” I whispered, recognising her. Memories flooded back—childhood promises, a friendship I thought I’d lost.

I reached for her, but the dark creature grabbed me. I screamed—until suddenly I woke in my adult bedroom.

On the chair in front of me sat Bluebell.

She laughed...