A couple of days ago, I saw someone rummaging through a box of old toys my father had placed outside. At the time, I was in my room with the blinds wide open. Writing an English assignment until I heard a sound outside my house. When I glanced outside my window, I saw a person rummaging through our recycle bins. I noticed that an old blue box filled with toys had been placed next to the recycle bins. I watched attentively to see if the person would take anything from the toy box.
A lot of the things within the toy box were old but held some sentimental value to my heart. “I once used those toys,” I thought while watching the person. After a few minutes, which felt like hours, the person left. And I quickly pulled down the white string to close my blinds. With the blinds closed the only light within my room was the light coming from my laptop’s screen. My laptop’s screen illuminated the back of my wall. The light cast a shadow on my wall, of the outline of my head and shoulders. I opened the closed blinds slightly to allow some more light into my room. At the time, I was writing a DRJ. But the thought of losing my old toys kept on interfering with my mind. This drove me to open my blinds a little more so that the toy box was visible to my eyes.
I don’t know why I worried so much about the toys. They were quite old and dirty. But I guess I wasn’t ready to give up on my childhood. To be honest, a part of me ached to go outside and prevent the person from taking anything. What hindered me from going outside was me thinking that it’s too late. That I’m older now and there was no reason in trying to stop him. But there was a reason which kept crossing my heart. The truth that when those toys are gone, part of my childhood will be gone too. “Maybe someone else may like to play with those toys more than me,” I thought. At least then the toys would be used.