People are always going to ask us this question, what does home mean to you? This is a tricky question so I am going to answer this in the best way I can, a story. So here you go, my story, the story of home. Just so you know my name is Sophia Rawlings, I have brown hair and brown eyes with a nice straight smile and braces with a normal body, also I am 11. So I am walking down the street in my town with my 2 best friends. Marley Monsen and Charlee Elliott, Charlee has blonde hair and is 12. Marley also has blonde hair and is 11. We are heading to the School when we start to randomly tell stories. We never do this because all of us are incredibly secretive. Marley also likes asking us personal questions that she will not answer but makes Charlee and I do it. “What does home mean to you?” That was her question and my answer was probably the best you will ever hear.
“You cannot see the home you live in, you can only live your life in it.” That was the quote I made up on the spot but it was still meaningful for some reason. I feel like it is something that could bring my mood up on a bad day. Lucky me, Marley likes my answer so I am happy. Charlee was never very talkative so she just looked into the morning sky, her green eyes shimmering. “Home is where you grow up and live your life. If we had no home we would have no life.” “That’s deep” replied Marley. “I know,” answered Charlee. We made it to school to start our day.