People have places that they can go to that bring them much warmth and comfort. These places can be homes, places with lots of memories, or even secretive ones. My childhood home in Dallas, Texas, has always evoked those feelings of comfort and security. The kitchen in my home represents memories of family meals, warmth, and togetherness. I remember coming home after school and smelling the mild aroma of Indian spices that my mother was cooking with and the tantalizing curry that she would make. The kitchen was a small, dimly lit room with bamboo flooring and wallpaper that did not match it at all. The pictures which hung on the ugly wallpaper were of my siblings and me, reminding me of my childhood. While the kitchen certainly contributed to the warmth and security of my house, my bedroom was where I felt the most secure. My room was the only room in the house that was painted light blue and would always have the strong smell of incense when entered. At first glance, people might think that it was just another room in the house, but to me, this room was special. When I was younger, I spent so much time in my room that I knew where all the secret spots were. They were so well-hidden that to date my family does not know about them. In certain places of the room, if someone looked at the wall closely, they would see pencil writing with messages for whoever would read them. I recall nights coming home tired and just lying on my soft bed and feeling the cool breeze that would come through my broken window. Outside my broken window, I could hear my dog scurrying around in the thick bushes looking for toys that he had hidden. The backyard stayed pretty much the same through most of my life. There were always over grown weeds outside my window and a lawn that was more dead than alive. On hot summer nights, my friends and I would sit outside on a big cushioned swing and smoke while my family was asleep. We would sit there listening to the quiet whistling...
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