The Meaning of Home

My house may just be four walls but my home isn’t. In fact my home doesn’t even have any walls. My home is a hill, A hill full of home. It’s full of fun, happiness, funny things and sadness. I made strong friendships there. It made us more brave, stronger and happy. We made jokes that made us spit out our water from laughing. We went to a pond to see what was there. Nothing was there but rocks and a tree that fell down, but we wanted to see what was on the other side of it so we got our shoes and socks wet but we had fun. Afterwards, we put our socks back on and kept going. Once we got to the top of the hill we felt the breeze on our faces but that was in the past. This year we decided to go see the difference there but right there in the park I lost a friend. Well, not really lost. She just wanted to go home but after that she didn’t really talk to us. And we still had fun but it just didn’t feel right. We went to the pond in front of the hill and found a kid's car. We fixed it and had fun, forgetting the fact we lost a friend. We pushed each other and took turns on it. We decide to go back to the park and go in the car to “drive” down the stairs. Then we went to our houses. Back to the real world.