My home

My home is not just a place. Neither is it just a place to sleep in. It is a place to make memories, good and bad. My room is like a sacred place to me. It it has all my Lego and toys, and a desk to write at. It has a drum kit, to improve my musical talents. I also have a bed to sleep and dream in. There is also my brother’s room, with a piano to play and a bed to sleep in. Further down the carpeted floor, is my parent’s room. They worked on every little thing in my home, so I’m glad they have a bed to rest and relax in. Down the wooden staircase is the living room, with a matching wooden floor. It’s where me and my family watch movies together, on the worn grey couch. The food comes from kitchen with white tiles in my home. While we bake brownies, the scent of chocolate wafts through the air. Down the carpeted staircase to the second carpeted floor, lies my dad’s work computer. His job supplies our family money, while my mom’s Job supplies extra money. Then there is the exit door; but let me tell you a secret. when you leave your home, you're just leaving your house. Home is a sense that you belong.