It's now been a month since your death. None of your family members have been in your room. The door remains shut. Your mom goes up to your dad and whispers: "it's time". Your dad looks at her with his lifeless eyes, nods, and slowly rises from the kitchen table. They enter your room slowly. Just stepping inside of it gives your mother the chills. Your father holds your mom as she begins to tear. He's trying to be strong, but he can't, soon, the tears swell up his eyes as well. They begin to pick up your clothes, dust your shelves, and make your bed. The stain on your carpet from your blood has been covered with a rug. Neither of them goes near it. They clean in silence for the next hour. They do not care that you are gone; they just did not want a messy room, right?