Home

Home to me is a place where I feel safe and where my family is, where I sleep, where I play games with my family on game night, and every room is full of different memories. Whether it’s my sister blasting the song pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows at full volume, or my mom laughing at a funny joke that she made ( though none of us find it funny) . Everything has a lifetime of memories. Like that time that we came home we went to home depot, and my mom accidently threw something into the cart of the person in front of us by accident, and the second that we got home, we were laughing our heads off in the living room. The living room is where we watch movies or where my parents watch the news. I feel like I belong and when I'm there, I feel at home. Every day we have a family dinner in the dining room or the kitchen. We tell each other how our day went, what happened, and who we played with at recess. The play room is where we play games, the upstairs has our rooms, and the basement is to put it simply; haunted. My home is not just a place on a map, nor is it just a building, it's my home. It's the only one I have ever known. I hope it stays that way, I feel bad for everyone that does not have a home. But home is where the heart is, and the heart is where the home is. It’s not just a bunch of walls, it's the people that you are with, and the memories that you make. That is the true meaning of home and nothing can ever take that feeling of belonging, of feeling safe, and of feeling loved away.