There's no place like home!
My favorite place is at my house because there's no place like home. At home I can play games if I’ am bored. I can eat food when I’ am hungry. Especially the food my mom cooks. She learned to cook from her mom, my grandmother, who died when my mom was 16. If I stay at home I’ am also safe from the dangers of the world. Even though I stay outta trouble people blame me for something other people did. At home I can't be blamed because nobody saw me. I can go to sleep if I’ am tired because there's a bed there.
When I get home from school I look and see if we got any mail in the mailbox. My mailbox is black like the tar on the road. Then I go in the side door and up the stairs. I enter the living room and I see my dead and dusty brown couches. I hang up my keys then I go and put my book bag in the bedroom which looks like a car show because of all the car pictures hanged up. Then I go to the kitchen which is my favorite room in the house. My kitchen is the refueling station where I can get food to eat and get more energy. Then I sit down and do my homework, NOT!!!
While I check the mailbox for mail I can smell a smell ever so elegant. It has a strong flower like scent from the orange flowers that I grew around it. When I enter my house from the door I can smell the dust, which irritates my allergies. The dust is an enemy far worse then any red cockroach. Whence I enter the living room my dad usually leaves the A.C. on and I can smell the cool refreshing air that cleans out my lungs. The cool refreshing air is like the smell of refrigerated water. Then I go to my bedroom where I take of my book bag. Then I go to the kitchen smelling the refueling proteins and carbohydrates.
I check the mail when I get home and while checking it I can hear the people that live downstairs from me talking. They sound like a crowd in the sub-way. I enter my house from the side door. Then I walk up my brown-carpeted stairs and I can hear the creaking sounds coming from some of the steps. It is as if it were an old haunted house. Then I enter the tan color ceiling living room where I hear the sweet sound of an A.C. It sounds like the white water falls at Niagara Falls. I drop of my book bag in my living room and head into the kitchen. In the kitchen I can hear the sounds of the exhaust fan that is on. It was as though that it were a bus engine and the driver was accelerating on the accelerator.
I get home from school and I first check the mail. The mailbox feels rough like the concrete side blocks. I run to the side door and then up stairs. The stairs are big wooden plates that are on top of each other. Then I go into the living room where I feel a drift like I am flying in the air because of the cool A.C. Then I drop my book bag in the bedroom and go to the kitchen. The kitchen is the paradise I’ve been waiting for.