My Home is Special

Everyone has a home, whether it has four floors or one, in the middle of nowhere, or in the city with a public library. My home is special. When I walk through the door, I smell the lush natural smell of my mom lighting the incense stick and letting the smoke travel right to my nose. I throw my bag on the brown leather couch. My dad comes up to me and says “ Hello Ashita! How was school?” I usually reply with, “Yep,it was fine.” I saunter up the stairs and I can see my brother and I’m getting so thrilled and my excitement is crawling up my spine. I burst into laughter and jump up and down, I’m hurtling towards him and hugging him and screaming in his ear! He does not like it. Home feels like a sweet and sour combination. Sometimes things can go wrong, and other times everything's calm and sweet. I do my homework listening to my birds chirp and it helps me focus. Then at the dinner table, I smell the aromatic chicken biriyani. I put my hand into the soft squishy rice and chicken, then dump it in my mouth, and it's mouthwatering! After dinner, about 7:30pm, I go upstairs again and adjust myself to sink to the cozy pillows and bed. My mom turns off the light and puts my night light on. “ Good Night”! Now that's the feeling of ‘home’.