Home Is Where the Heart Is

As my car climbed the hill, my heart sunk into my stomach. I parked as far away from my friends as I could and quickly exited the car, not once looking at them. Now it was every man for himself. Emerging into the open air, I suddenly became aware of myself. I could feel my puffy, blood-shot eyes. My palms became slimy. My fingers clinched into a fist and my nails dug into my skin. My sight blurred and my tunnel of vision tried to focus on the front door. Every step seemed more awkward than the last. Eyes pierced me from all sides. I felt naked. My body trembled like a sheep in the midst of wolves.

Looming over me was a man in a blue pinstripe suit holding a leather briefcase. His wrinkled forehead displayed beads of sweat and stress was painted on his face. “Rise and Shine, Anastasia.” He said with a certain accentuated low-key moroseness to his tone, placing unusual stress on syllables and stressing the wrong parts of words. “Wake up, Anastasia” He continued, “Wake up and smell the ashes of your people.” I glowing blue eyes staring at me, observing every detail of my being. I called for my Mum and Dad, but they were gone. The world looked different that day. My colourful childhood home had changed to a bleaker and less welcoming brown, there were many planes in the sky, like birds flying south and there were bones and pieces of metal all over the ground. That was when I was deported to The Society. To my new

Jackie and I were now halfway to where Mike’s car wreck took place, on Highway 46. The accident must have been pretty bad because it was reported on the news, a rare case, I thought to myself. I prayed Mike was going to be ok. The drive felt like it was taking hours to get to the scene . I could feel the tension in the car growing. The fact that one of our closest friends could be gravely injured was a slug shot from a shotgun into our chests. Jackie was still distressed as she drove; tears dripped from her eyes like droplets from a cool water bottle on a hot day.

Without the proper form of a “home” or better yet a family, children are not well equipped for life and the struggles they may face. The foster system is wonderful for protecting children from strife they may encounter with their biological parents, but it can do more harm than good. “‘The longer kids stay in foster care the more moves they have, the worse they become socially and emotionally’ Blanco said” (Chavers 9). States around the country are now trying to figure out a way to find permanent, safe, stable homes for youth in foster care (Chavers 1).

I stopped and stared, I thought to myself “How long have i been gone from society, never mind, all that matters is now!” I closed the door behind me. The fabric on the suit felt foreign to me even though I know I bought from the local pawn shop for a great deal. I stepped outside the room and saw Groves the man I came to dislike severely was still at attention, I looked at him in his blank brown eyes that showed no emotion, and he guided me to the outside. He opened the door, I slowly stepped out. The wind was blowing and giving off the smell of late fall, the trees with no leaves gave me memories of my house in Springfield. I keep walking and the old piece of crap car that I drove here. Groves proceeded and then opened the door, I sat inside and felt the interior, it was an unimaginable feeling being inside something that I owned I pulled down the sun visor to look at my son, Aiden, and my beautiful wife,

As he stomped down the hall dressed in all black, I timidly stepped to the other side of the hallway with my head down avoiding any type of interaction. When the sounds of boots and chains faded away, I was overwhelmed with relief. Nothing had calmed me more than this instant; nothing had been more soothing than the sound of pure nothingness. The fear that came over me was like being trapped in a small room with no way out. I felt helpless, defenseless, like something was going to happen to me in that hallway with the boy dressed in black.

As she rubbed her eyes in exhaustion she remembered the adventures of the day before. When she got home she passed out from the excitement and strain on her heart. She reached down to check her leg and sighed with relief to find a replacement was already attached. She looked over at her nightstand and noticed her spare glass waiting for her to put them on. As she got out of bed all she could think about was how rude she was to Sam. She walked into the kitchen to see her mother preparing breakfast. She looked around and did not see Sam. She didn’t know why she expected to see her but she was upset that he was not here. Her mom turned a saw her disappointment and said “He seem in quite a rush to leave he left his job to help you.” She was startled by her answer and rushed out the door ignoring the cries from her mother. She hurried Sam’s farm almost throwing up because of the strain on her heart. When she reached the farm she found an old man working the fields. She rushed over and asked, “Where is Sam?” The old man replied, “I fired him because...” She didn’t let him finish She rushed to the road the taste of blood in her mouth from running. She saw a man walking on the road looking forlorn. She called out, “Sam!” The man stopped and turned it was Sam he answered her, “Joy?” She ran into his arms and started to cry. Sam confused hugged her back. She thought to herself about how a horrible incident led to her

It was a mysterious, windy, dark night. Annabel, a short young girl with jet black hair, eyelashes that reached the sky and eyes like a puppy dog, had just awoken on the floor of a cold dark forest. As she took in her surroundings and wondered how she had got there, a sudden pain appeared in her head and she had a brief flashback of painful memories of the car crash that she and her parents had just been involved in, a horrific accident; she lay there as tears slowly welled up in her eyes and rolled down her soft, pale cheeks. The thought of her deceased parents sent a shiver up her spine; she couldn’t believe they were gone.

Ashley repeatedly screamed, over and over again. She did not know if she would die or if she would make it out alive anymore. She doesn’t know what day it was, nor why it happened. But all she knew was that It wasn’t a maniacal serial killer or kidnapper that took her. It was one of her best friends. The only questions left is, Which one? moreover, Ashley was tied to a pole in a dirty, dark, and wet basement. She heard the door to the basement open and there stood the person who’d taken her. She was abruptly silent before asking “Why did you kidnap me? Why are pretending to help find me? why?”. After a brief pause the person said “because you deserve this” the person slowly walked up to Ashley and kneeled down before proceeding “Everything that happens to you from now on…you deserve it”. “What did I, ever, do to you, to deserve this? what Mycah?!” I, however, jolted awake from my nap, realizing that I was still in 2nd periods’ math class. “What’s with you Jordan?” Brittany asked. “what? oh nothing, just a weird dream is all” I said before finishing my math

This has to be the strangest day I ever had, as I arrive to Rutherford High School to look for my friends, my mouth gapes open when I saw no one in the building. I stand still, bewildered a million thoughts were running in my mind. “Is it Saturday, no it's Tuesday,” I say to myself as I glance at my phone. Its 7:30 am. Where is everyone? I look to see if I had any texts from my friends when I realize I have no signal. I stand there puzzled as I hear the soft crunch of boots on the dry fall leaves, footsteps coming closer and slower each time. The person, walking gave out a screech every few seconds, a sound so vicious and menacing that echoed through out the empty street. I turn around to see who made that noise. My heart pounded like a jackhammer

Home creates you identity because you learn from your surroundings even before you start to go to school. When you are young playing with friends and then fall and scrap your knee, you learn from that. It might take some time, but you eventually learn that that hill is too steep, or that toy is too much for you to handle.

It is no doubt about it that everyone has somewhere that they have adapted to long enough to call it there home! A place they can relax and really be their selves, for some it may have been their grandparents house, aunties house or wherever they felt comfortable. Well I of course felt comfortable in my own home, a four bedroom house on the west side of North Miami. My home in Miami was perfect I had my own room, I was very comfortable there, and it was a place to get away from the world.

One knows that a place is their home when they are comfortable enough to present a true description of themselves, because they know that they will receive definitive acceptance. It is a sanctuary for them where they can do anything they please and not be judged afterwards. It is where one can share the absurdity of their day without any remorse or repercussions. The reason why people say that a person only has one true home is because one will

In a matter of fact, home is a noun that is defined in the -Collins

What does one call a place where they feel safe? A place where one is surrounded by loved ones? A place where one can forget the worries of the world for even a brief moment. A place where no matter what happens, they will always have a place to return to. They have the deepest of connections with those that live there; connections that they know will never be severed no matter what happens. That is home. Home can be defined as where a person lives or has a permanent residence, but it is more than that when pondering on the emotional connection it has with the heart. A common phrase that is constantly used is “there is no place like home”. It is not because a person misses their previous residence, but due to the many qualities it possesses that could possibly never be found anywhere else. Home is not simply a place where one lives, but a place where love, contentment, and tranquility are abound.