Home

Home. Home is a place that one might call a house or a building. But to me, it's not any of that. Home is like Mercury--very hot or very cold. Home is comfort and happiness, but no one talks about how upsetting it can be. Getting mad at siblings or parents or, for some, 'guardians.' I have two homes, one dad, a stepmom, one mom and a brother. Weekdays, I go home, sigh, and get comfortable. My home has different shades, colours, tones and temperatures. Happiness is seen, but sadness, less so, is still there. To me, home is emotion, LED lights, warmth and my cat. I love my family, but no one gets me. No one ever understands what I think. Sometimes they see me, but they don’t realize that I’m different. Everyone is unique, but I feel different. My home changes. Sometimes, school feels like home because it's an adventure, a vacation, memories. But, time after tune, it’s the cold side of Mercury again: too much work or annoying classmates. So, my home switches again. My home is emotions, feelings, not a man-made building with a few doors. The only doors I have are in my mind.