A Vacation Island
Imagine a room, a room where homework essentially did not exist. A room where friends, fun, and hobbies are the only words in the dictionary. The most important place in my house is the basement. My basement is a vacation island. Though there are two rooms in my basement, the main room and the furnace room, the main room is my island getaway. It has a 55 inch, flatscreen, Sony television, a blue pingpong table, a shinny hockey rink, a Bose speaker system, two large blue bean bags embroidered with mine and my brother’s names, and a brown, leather sectional, my favorite place to crash after school.
When I walk into the house after school, I head straight for my island. The main room in my basement is where I escape from the stresses of the mainland. When I vacation in my basement, I can get away from everything that stresses me. It’s like being at a resort; I enter a whole new world of relaxation and freedom. Instead of frozen drinks on the beach, I enjoy root beer, Sunkist, and other fruitilicious sodas on the comfy couch. Instead of kayaking and snorkeling, I enjoy chasing down wanted enemies in “Call of Duty” on my Xbox. On vacation, people put aside their phones and forget about their work; In my island, I put aside my mom’s nagging comments and forget about my dreadful schoolwork.
There are other distractions on my island to help keep my mind off of schoolwork and my mom. Sometimes I invite my friends to vacation with me. When I am with my friends, secluded in my vast island, I let my personality shine. Back at the mainland, you have to be respectful, proper, and mature, but on the island none of these unwritten rules exist. My friends and I can be wild, immature, goofy, in other words, we can be ourselves. What happens on my island, stays on my island. In pingpong ball wars, we take my box of pingpong balls and some paddles and whip them at each other as fast as we can. I once hit the pingpong ball so ferociously hard that I left...
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