Home

Hello! My name is Stara. I am 11 years old and I am in grade six at the Elizabeth Ziegler Public School. Let me tell you a short story about what “home” means to me. Once upon a time there was a boy called Izuku . He lived in a small town with his mother, father and younger sister. One day their parents decided to go on a little trip with the money they had saved up till now. Izuku and her sister were very happy at first. The place they went to was very fancy and luxurious. Even a little too much. Everything was so bright and shiny they were blinded. But even with all this luxury Izuku felt like something was missing. A feeling deep down. He missed home. By home he did not mean the brick box called a house that they lived in. He meant the sound of all the things around. The beautiful, vivid energy and mostly his best friend Shoto who lived near his house. He missed the feeling that he had when he was there playing with him. The strong fearless feeling that was like no one could ever hurt him. This is what home means to me. Not a place where you have bright or shiny luxurious items or a box called a house. It's the place that makes you feel beautiful and strong, like you can conquer anything and no one can hurt you. Home is not always a place, it's sometimes a person, just like in Izuku's case. Sometimes an object. Sometimes a sound. Home is the place that has objects, sounds, voices, people… in it that make that place home. My home is where I am with my family. The place where I feel free and protected.