Family's Collapse

Long Island, New York is my birthplace and my home. I’ve lived here my entire existence of 17 years and I am blessed. I grew up in a 4 bedroom home in a town by the name of Williston Park. My home is a two-story colonial with a large front and back yard. The lush green grass and the variety of plants in the front yard make it aesthetically pleasing. The white siding of the home make it really hard to keep clean. The four windows in the front of the home make it look as if the house is smiling when you go towards it. Most of the homes in my neighborhood are similar in size and basic structure. Many of these homes are occupied by older white couples. Although my town isn't as diverse as the neighboring towns I love my neighborhood. Some of my favorite things to do are having casual conversations with my older neighbor John; going to the many baseball or football fields to play with my friends; go to Roosevelt Field Mall, or go to one of the many restaurants we have, or finally go to a place called Bounce, which is an indoor trampoline park. One of the greatest parts about my neighborhood is the sense of community and how we are able to set our differences aside when people we care about are in need. Growing up on Long Island we don't have as much access to public transportation compared to NYC, so I usually asked my parents for rides or was stuck walking miles to my friend’s house, or wherever else I went. Once I reached the age I really had no choice other than to get my

It was an unusual quiet evening at my favorite diner. I always loved meeting my beautiful wife here after a long day of work to get some of Chicago’s best coffee. Upon opening the front door, the welcoming smell of freshly ground coffee fills my nostrils as I take a deep breath, but at the same time, I lose my breath as I spot my stunning wife waiting for me. She was wearing a vibrant red dress, as she knows that it’s my favorite, while her hair shimmered in the light.

Everyone has a “dream house”, they just rely on your opinions and beliefs. You can have a modern dream house, or maybe a vintage dream house. You can also either live in the woods, in the city, or even right by the beach! You can be by yourself, or you can have lots and lots of roommates. You can have lots of neighbors, or maybe even none at all! You could live off of a mountain, or maybe on a paved street.

Every household has its own individual characteristics that make it functional, while portraying the family. For the private residential space, I decided to focus on my aunt’s house. The space has a slight rustic theme throughout and utilizes natural products in every room. I choose to focus on the kitchen/dining room of this home because it is the center of this household where everyone tends to congregate.

The scenery is still very warming like a puppy that is held close to your chest. The old water tower remains standing protruding through the earth. Dust floats in the air, creating clouds, when we drive down the jerky road. I look around, nothing has changed from last time I was here, the grain bins still reflect the sun. Each corn stalk stood tall and firm making it difficult for me to see what mom and I always drive for. The pressure on the gas pedal increased giving the car a jolt of energy like a kid who has just three bags of candy. Then it came into view, with the tree swing still hanging in the backyard waiting for someone. I pulled into the carmel driveway shifting the car into park allowing it to rest and closed the door with a “clunk”. As I turned around the house stood silently still, I took a deep filling my lungs with the most amazing feeling.

Down four stairs, onto a landing, turn left, down nine more stairs, and you're there. You have reached the basement of my house. I have lived in the same house since I was four, but I recently moved into the spacious bachelor pad i’ve created in the basement. My old room, was a small room across the hall from my parents room. With my twin sisters getting too old to share a room like they always have, it was time for me to give up my old room. It wasn’t really the best spot to hang out with my friends, so we weren’t in there much. Now, the new room is like my own studio apartment, so we spend a lot of time down there.

It was a dark and spine-chilling night and my friends and I stumbled across a really creepy house. This old house was big and did not have any windows to peek inside of it. I also thought that it looked very ominous, sinister, and abandoned. My friends wanted to check the house out, but I didn’t want to go in. I thought the house looked eerie and ghastly, but they said, “you'll be fine your just a chicken.” I wanted to shriek it looked so scary, but instead, I said, I am not a chicken, I’ll show you. I went into the house by myself… there were COBWEBS, SPIDERS, and BUGS OH MY! I suddenly heard my friends outside talking and I came out to see what the commotion was all about? They were shaking and said, “we don’t want to go into the house anymore,” so I said, ok then just stay outside in the dark and wait for me to finish looking around the house and then we can leave. I said, it may take a little bit for me to finish looking in the house, but they said, “that's ok.” I finished our conversation and then I went back into the house.

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.

The house that I’ve grown up in is very unique, my parents built it by hand. With no help from anyone besides some family and friends. My dad and his ex wife started building it before they got divorced, and there was only 2 floors because then it was only a home for a family of 4. When my mom and dad got married they had to build more onto it because the family of 4 turned into a family of 6. Plus both of my parents would help anyone that needed it, and so they became foster parents. All my siblings and their children call where I live “The Farm” because our house sits on around 450 acres land, that have anywhere from horse and cows grazing on it at almost all times year, to baling hay during the summer months. There is always something going on at The Farm.

Up to this point in my life, I have lived in two homes, though the one I live in now is where I have primarily lived. I have so many vivid memories from these two places that I am constantly looking around remembering all of the good times I had. Moving into my current home was not only a decision to expand on our living space, but give both me and my sister a good place to live. Between the less than desirable neighbors and the small cramped environment, it was a necessary choice to move an I couldn’t be any happier for it.

I looked back at my house, the green peeling paint on the door, the ripped screen door, the huge window at the top of the house, from which you could see into my room, and I only had one thought, this is no longer my home.

Clink! Bang! Crash! The my closet is overflowing once again. My small house is maybe a little too small. I walked to the kitchen to get something to eat. I see the kitchen closet is overflowing with pots and pans, again. The kitchen has a polished wooden floor easy to slip on if you're wearing socks. Our kitchen is small, but big enough to put items on the shining counter. I looked out to our backyard, I spot some fluffy looking white bunnies hopping along, eating the carrots I left out for them. I dragged my body down the long hallway to my mother and father's room. I complain, “This house doesn't have enough space!” My parents look at each other with a depressed look and sigh, “ We need to find a new house.”

My dream house is a giant mansion in the HollyWood hills. The outside is covered in marble walls and complex designs. As you step step up to the golden gates of the property, you are instantly greeted with the sight of a giant 50 foot building laying in front of an enormous lake. As you approach the lake, you can see as the water moves gracefully with the warm Spring wind. Once you approach the edge of the lake, if you look to the right you will see a massive field of roses and many rare flowers. If turn around and walk away from the lake and move to the left of the building you will be greeted with the sight of a giant 60 foot 200-year-old palm tree with coconuts near its top.

On the corner of my block, there’s this one house that’s always haunted looking. When I walk past it, it gives me the chills and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I was walking home past it one day, and I just got a bad feeling from that place. I felt like there was something harmful about to happen, I felt the suspense. It felt like there was something or someone behind me.

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.