A Home of My Own

My home is my favourite place to be. Who lives there is my sister, my mom, my stepdad, and me. The living room is where my family sits down after a not-so-great day. We talk together and work things out. My mom and I love the kitchen. We bake cakes and cookies for us to enjoy. We make lots of different things for dinner. My family enjoys a meal that smells like magic. My mouth waters when I smell it. My room is where I lay down after a long day. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I scream, sometimes I’m just glad I got to spend time with my wonderful family. Then I close my eyes and dream of what life is or could be. Sometimes I live with my dad in his house. I live with my dad, his girlfriend, and five other kids including me. I am there less often—every other weekend. It’s very chaotic there. We watch movies together and play games. We always need to have lots of food because we have to feed seven people. We usually have Dino ribs for dinner or pizza. For breakfast, we have pancakes, waffles, or eggs and bacon. But to me, it isn’t the stuff in the house that I love; it’s the people in the house that I love.