Descriptive Essay Home

A home is not just a roof over your head; it is a place of safety and acceptance. It is a place where you can let yourself go and be the “real” you. Home is a place where you can go when you are angry or sad. It is a place where people who love you are waiting for you. But home does not have to be a postal address; it can be found in your closest friends, your car, your workplace or even in the library. The standard definition of “home” is the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household. To me, home is where the heart is; meaning home is where you feel you belong most in the world. Living in a cul de sac, we knew all our neighbors. There were eight houses in the court, each with different types of people. There was Franklin and Martha Brown, who had a pool in the backyard, Gabe and Matthew, whose parents were kind of cool, Joe and Laura, who had four kids, Robert, who had two big dogs and was divorced, Linda, who was a third grade teacher and had a bunch of cats and Margaret, who lived alone. The eighth house was empty for most of the fifteen years

Books were what kept me sane as my home life became more chaotic. My parents were having financial troubles and arguing almost every night, my books became a second home for me. As a result, I would always be found with my head buried in a book. At the time, I was reading young adult fantasy novels. My favorite books were written by the author Tamora Pierce. She wrote about young women who were strong, courageous and intelligent. These girls fought in wars, saved lives, had magical powers, talked to dragons and didn’t let anyone belittle them. I imagined myself fighting alongside them and sharing in their adventures. I would imagine myself having a part to play in the stories. These books helped me cope with the stress of my home life by giving me a place to go and hide, even if it was for a little