Descriptive Essay About My Perfect House

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” He glared at me and sashayed inside, leaving me to gather my bags. That dick.

“Well, good luck! I have to go. Bye bye, handsome.” You kiss him on the cheek, Bellamy giving you a side smile in return as you left his room.

“You can go get that now.” I said as I walked back inside to go to sleep. He sighed and grabbed his jacket and

Her eyes struggled to stay open, slowly blinking but never closing. Droplets from the clouds rolled down the windowpane, like copycats of those running down her face. The night was dark with shadows. The only sounds in the house were the plump raindrops falling on the windowsill, the clinking of beer bottles and the sound of her nervous breath. She had to stay awake for she had left the moment he had passed out on the dusty couch in the living room. Her sweaty palms clutched the leather straps of her bag. Her body shook like a small dog’s and the wind made the trees sway like the ghosts of everything she’d ever known. The sound finally came and so did the closing of her bedroom door.

He laughed, “Yes, I’m almost done. You can go back to the Common Room if you want.”

"It has gotten dark, I suggest that you stay the night. I shall prepare dinner for all of us." He sits the room and leaves us a deafening

Robin runs his hands through his hair and replies, "alright I'm going. Go back to bed and get some

I shut my bedroom door behind be, setting down my cat and going to feed him. While he was eating, I took Lizzy outside, letting

I grew up in a average looking house on the end of the cul de sac. I grew up in a loving neighborhood, and the people I grew up with have because my closest friends. The outside of our house is painted white and has navy blue shutters surrounding the windows. When you walk through the front door, you get a close up view of our tan, carpet stairs that are still stained. Once you turn to the left, you walk into the family room. The family room has what my family calls “the brown couch.” The brown coach is a long, super soft couch that has a perfect view of the T.V. where we can binge watch our favorite shows. Across from the brown couch room we there’s a storage room. The storage room has everything; art supplies, board games, card games, books, office supplies, it has it all. There’s also a grayish- purple futon which we occasionally pull out, but it mainly stays as a couch. Next to the futon is my desk. Connecting from my desk is a bright pink chair where I spend a lot of my school nights. My desk has all the school supplies a person could need; crayons, pens, pencils, erasers, books, paper, you name it a probably have it somewhere.

“Thank you,” Mark whispered, hugging his grandpa. After, saying good night to his dad and sister, he went to bed.

On a dry hot day in the middle of August, I was awaken to mother’s happy voice saying, “We ‘re here guys!” My excited family and I had just arrived at our two-story brick house at a beautiful resort called “Ding Ding Castle” in Orlando, Florida. My mom, Aunt Wanda, Uncle TJ, cousin Cameron, friend Ronald, Grandmother Doris, Granddad Carlton, sister Kenzie, cousin Kaylan, and I were all planning on staying one long week together. When I got out of the car, I immediately smelled the fresh air and smoke from someone having a barbeque nearby and could taste the fresh grass that had just been finely cut. The bright yellow sun was beaming down on us, making me sweat instantly. I looked around and saw the rows of houses next to each other and noticed that each one had its own personal swimming pool in the back. There were tall palm trees in each yard and every house had new and shiny cars in the driveway. Our house was two stories high and was made of bright red bricks that made it stand out from all of the other houses. The house was surrounded with light green grass and had a porch with dark blue chairs sitting in a row. It was definitely one of the biggest and prettiest houses I had ever seen

During 5th grade year of 2016, almost once every week my parents would go and look for a house. I would remind them everyday that the house we have is great and there is no need to find another. In that house I have lived there at least eight years, which is most of my life so far. Till this day it has always been my favorite house, and the perfect house. I have made so many memories there it is impossible to count. I loved it.

"Whatever you say Betty...I 'm going to bed. Don 't stay up late." Laura switched into her pajamas and curled into her blanket still faintly smelling like Carmilla. She breathed in and smiled.

I walk towards the mailbox of my old house. I am hit with a sense of nostalgia as I walk down our gravel driveway. The remnants of old flags had been strewn across our pathway. I had left this house because of the tornado, which didn't hit the house. This was the only luck my family has ever had. I’ve heard all of the stories about my family’s curse, and how my family owned their own island. You may think this was an awesome thing, yet it wasn’t in the least enjoyable. The nearest supermarket was five nautical miles, and not to mention a gas station and a mall would add at least forty-five minutes to my travel time. Plus, the house was the only point of interest on our island other than the density of the wildlife. My family spent a long time searching for trespassers. There was even a fence surrounding the house to prevent kids from dying from our family’s hunting trips.

On a frosted dewy morning, the sun peeked over the horizon, introducing a myriad of joyful colors to the fresh sky. A hummingbird buzzed around the wooden porch swing that I sat on, making the beginning of this day seem nearly magical. In the distance, you could see my family’s herd of horses galloping across our two-hundred acres of rolling hills and deep valleys. The scene depicted is just another spring sunrise in the little town of Cascade, Montana, viewed from the magnificent house I once called home, before everything changed.