My Home is My Best Friend

When I walk into my house, I can smell the drywall under the light gray paint. That reminds me of the burnt fire ashes left in the rain all night. I can smell candles, the fresh wood floors, and even the disgusting toilet smell. Home is my best friend. When my grandpa passed away, it was there. It’s always there when I get mad or when I’m having best friend drama. It has always been there. My home is my best friend. I tell it secrets. It was the house I grew up in. Even though I’m moving away because my parents are separating, it will always be in my heart. I love every bit of my house. My room, the kitchen, the living room with all the memories on our dirty couch. Even the trampoline when it started pouring rain so we made a slip and slide. My home isn’t just places or things .it’s the animals and the people inside of it. If you were to ask me what is my favourite part about my home? I would say: all of it.