My parents added a second floor to the house when I was in elementary school, so I spent most of my years upstairs in an awesome and huge bedroom all to myself. I still, however, have fond memories of the little room downstairs that I shared with my little brother for a few years.
The walls were white, and the carpet was a funky brownish-yellow color right out of the seventies. I had this really cool ceiling lamp in red and yellow glass that I made my mom save for me (against her will) because I want to use it again someday. The closet was in a corner, and there were shelves in the adjacent wall that were really deep. I was sure that the Jabberwocky lived in there. Fortunately, I had a nighlight by my bed to keep me safe, along with four baby blankets, Bunny, and several other stuffed animals. I had some random bedding when I was really small, but I distinctly remember the day that my mom surprised me and had made my bed up with Rainbow Brite sheets. That was great. They paired wonderfully with my Michael Jackson poster and miscellaneous Justice League of America decorations. ;)
My little brother Drew was still in a crib when we shared that room, and I used to get out of bed at night and dance around with a flashlight to make him laugh. Then, of course, I would hear feet marching towards our room, and I would dive back under the covers in hopes that my parents would think that Drew was just having a random laughing fit all by himself. I have a feeling they caught on. But it was fun. I liked that little room. It felt safe (except for the Jabberwocky).