Things Between Marcus And I Has Been The Best Decision I Ever Made

My sisters and I all squished together on the small couch. So finally after what felt like twenty years, mom and dad said “We’re moving”. My stomach dropped. I loved this house, it was the only house I could remember living in, it was home. ”Where are we moving to?” I managed to say, hoping it would be across the street or something close. “Georgia!” she said with a soothing smile and hope and excitement in her eyes. Of course I didn’t want to move, especially out of state, my nine year old self was devastated, and before I knew it boxes were

I never knew this would be my last day here… in Chicago. I hate my dad’s job, this is why I'm moving. Moving cities every year is hard and I hate it. My parents don't seem to bother all that much, they do it mostly for the money. As all these thoughts ran through my head, time went by and I finally arrived at my new house. As I out, all I could feel was the cold wind hitting my face and leafs attacking my fresh new j’s. Looking ahead of my was the fourth and certainly not the last house of mine.

I walk up the steps of the house, looking around at the cracking paint that lines the walls. the stairs creak under me, I look down at the sagging wood and hurry to the porch which isn't any better. mold is covering it along with the fall leaves and sunken wood spots. I reach out and pull open the screen door,it makes a loud screeching noise. I shove my little silver key into the locked door, i twist and lean my shoulder against the door giving it a little push to open. The smell of old wood hits me before I get inside. I Step inside letting the screen door slam behind me. I look around, dust is falling through the air in the streams of daylight from the broken window. There's a couch in the middle of the room with a coffee table. I walk to

As soon as we set foot in that house I knew, we were going to raise our son there, this was going to be our home forever. The home was beautiful the outside was covered with white brick, there was a grand double door opening, there was even a grand foye, it was mansion. At first I was wondering why the price was so low but Lila told me to forget about it and that I did. We put in an offer on the house right away, we waited two long weeks before we found out that the owners had accepted our offers. We moved in two months before Lila’s due date. The first room

The sky was getting darker every second, as my long blonde hair was blown from my pale face. I took a deep breath and smiled a little. The cool, crisp air was refreshing from the heated and stuffy house. Making my way from the warm and coziness that lie behind the door, I headed towards the old buildings that surrounded my house. There were three of them. One was an old one room house that looked as if it wanted to fall over. The second, that lie adjacent to our garage, was a rotting shed filled with empty bottles and garbage that was there long before we had moved onto the

Since I left her poisoned arms. not once have I walked back towards the trail. Not once have I thought of returning. I have inhabited the white, chipping, House. With all its calming dulled colors. It's abused Windows hiding the danger.The beauty. The outside world. farther I've explored it depths. Following grey hallways, and battered wood floors. It's rooms left empty. the only thing occupying the house, is a thick layer of dust. Each day I've stayed here calms me. Today the light of the outside world creeps under the door. Longing fills my veins. Beckoning me forward. My hand touches the cold handle, my mind's telling me no. I twist. the door opens. The scent of pine and fresh air bombard my lungs. the light blinding me. As it fades, the trail lays before me. Drawing me forward. I stare. Letting myself go, I feel my body begin move. Moving towards the past. In the next moment I find myself walking. feeling the crunch of wood chips under my feet. And then I see it. Her. Hair , golden, reflecting the Sun. She stands, her back towards me. I whisper. Her head rises. I whisper. She turns. Emotions feel the air. she raises her hand as she walks forward. The warmth of her skin meeting my cheek. Tears of joy stream down our faces. Warmth spreading across my body. I'm here again. Walking with her. Side by side, heart with heart. Together, our moments of joy turn to love. Each day, we wait to see each other. He walks by. She doesn't bother. The storm is

It was the end of second grade when we moved into my parent’s home, although whenever I return it still feels like walking in after a long day of Mr. Minchak’s class. The stain on the TV room carpet still smells of orange juice, but the house and I are the only ones that know about its’ existence, like it’s our little secret. The house whispers memories of emotional detachment, it never raises its’ voice. Twelve years later, past thoughts are still there, but the feeling of home has never existed in that space; my parent’s home was never my home to be begin with.

It was a cool November morning when I arrived at my new home. The wind was blowing the birds were chirping and the trees were dancing in the cool autumn breeze. Many things have happened to and in this house and this is an account of these events.

We arrive on time at my father-in-law’s house. As we expected my sister-in-law Kylie is late again. She never been on time whenever we have a family gathering. The funny part is she is the one who suggested that we should meet in my father-in-law’s house around 9:30 in the morning but she never made it on time. While we are waiting, I finally had a glimpse of my father-in-law’s apartment; it was nice, simple, and neat. I noticed how blissful he was when he is giving me a tour of his house. He showed me his bedroom with a flat screen television, the living room with a nice and cozy

"Emery, go with grandma to the kitchen, she baked some cookies for you," I whisper, glancing down at her with a grin. The skittering of my daughter's shoes on the wooden floor mask her squeals of excitement. The worn, familiar couch moans as I collapse onto it, taking in the entirety of the house; it hasn't changed much at all since I moved out. The overwhelming joy I felt when moving here is something that I remember vividly. My dad got a major promotion, allowing us to move into the house we had always dreamed of living in. The confinement of our old two bedroom apartment had come to an end, and I was ecstatic. Of course, my own future was rapidly approaching, and with that came the fear of failure. This fear resonated particularly strong

I blinked, and the world slid into focus. My aunt stood beside the bed wearing a big dark sweater and a very serious face. What? That couldn't be. My aunt lived halfway across the world. We'd skyped last night. How could she be here? As these thoughts rushed through my mind, I noticed the room. It was my room, but the furniture wasn't the same. The bed wasn't in the same place. My dollhouse stood in the corner, the dollhouse that we'd got rid of years ago.

Landing abruptly back on the shore of reality, I walked into my home, making a special effort to protect Yarr from the danger lurking inside. Mountains of clutter accompanied the cold temperature our ramshackle heater could never compete against. Cold would be a fitting adjective to describe how I remember my former home. There were no loving calls of dinner being ready sitting on a mahogany table filled with people who loved each other. No questions concerning how one’s day went or what stories they’d love to share. Instead, I witnessed shattered glass, I heard screaming and cursing.

17 Bluebarn Avenue was more than a place that I lived in. This house was a place where I could feel at ease when my life becomes hard to handle. I am really attached to this house. I did not realise how much I loved this house until Thursday night when dad came home. The weather was dark and gloomy. Darkness began to drain in the sky, hiding away all the beautiful pink and orange clouds. Soon the warm glow of the streetlights began to cut the darkness. As I was casually checking my BioChip data on my phone I heard the creaking noise of the main door. I ran down the wooden stairs of the old cottage to see dad. All of us gathered around the long and solid wooden table which looked like a medieval banquet table in the middle of the crisp patterned wallpapered room. Dad started to discuss about the promotion he got this morning.

My day started like every other day. Laying in bed and unwinding until you have the energy to actually get out of bed and be productive. Except, it really wasn’t. It was August of 2014, beginning of the school year. I had lived on a street called Larsen Lane nearly all of my life, and had gone to the same school all my life, too. We should’ve been getting ready for school, but our parents decided we should take the day off. This kind of unwinding was different because my brother and I had slept on just mattresses; our bed frames had already been packed. Our room was just plain. The blue walls had stayed here ever since we had got them painted years ago, but that was it. The stickers we collected on our sliding glass doors to our closet were all taken off. I laid there, bland and lifeless, on the verge of tears even, thinking about the choice that could set me up for middle school. Our mom settled herself in bed with us, comforting us so we would couldn’t get too overwhelmed by the emotions of leaving behind our old life.

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.