How It Feels To Be Home

Home. I am adopted from a different family. I had lived in foster homes for 2 years, and had moved 6 times! I don’t remember anything, though. All of my friends are here, in Dartmouth. My mother and father are divorced. I have not a home. But two! It feels sad, yet lucky to experience these things, even though it happens to the best of us, as they may say.. At my Mum’s house, we have just the five of us. My two cats, Cricket and Birdie, and my dog, Newton, Me, And My Mum. I would go downstairs, and eat my mum’s food she made. It’s always a nice dinner. At my dad’s house, it’s different. We have just the three of us. Me, him, and my cat, Rosalee. It is mainly chill, except Rosalee hates everyone. So, she hisses at anyone, even if they are walking up the stairs and she hears them walking from the kitchen, a few rooms down the hall. I hear the noises of my dad making pasta, clanging pots and pans. Home means family, home means love, home means those special things that you can’t let go of. There is probably that one friend, that one cousin who is like a million dollars to you, like a sibling. I love my friends more than anything!- I feel special, as everyone should, I feel happy, I feel excited, somewhat ready…? Home is where your family, your friends, your arguments, your very dramatic make-ups, and much more is to come. That is what home means to me.