What Is Home?

Home is not a house. Home is not a tall building made of stone and cement, cold and hard, without a smell. That is what a house is. Home is a place where nobody can harm me. It is impossible to touch home, as home only exists in my mind, but if I could touch home, it would be warm and comfortable, like the blankets I sleep under. Home looks like my house, but with me, my family and all of our stuff, making it not just a house but our home. Home is where I feel safe and comfortable, and where I feel like nobody can hurt me. Home is the place I always go back to every day after school. I don’t have to go back to a house, but I always go back home. When I am at home, I can feel the cold floor under my feet. At home, I can smell the delicious food that my mother makes, and I can taste it on the tip of my tongue. I can hear my cats meowing, and the soft rustling of pages as me and my sister read books. Home is not a house. Home is a place where either people, animals, or both live, full of life. That is what home is.