A place called home

There is no place like home! 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. Furthermore, the reason why I loved my house so much is because I had my own room. As a child I had to share rooms with my sister in a 8 broom house filled with my family until my mother decided to move out. Then I got my own room which was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My room had everything I needed! I did not leave my room unless it was time to get out of the house or time to eat. I over loved my room my computer was in there , my television, I had my own little refrigerator, to go along with that my mom surprised me one day, I came home and my walls were painted pink with pictures of me all over, my furniture was to die for, my air conditioner was never off, and the best thing of all is I had a lock on my door. My friends always wanted to come over its like my room was the chill spot. It was very welcoming, but I did not let everybody in my room simply because my mother always told me not to. In addition to that my home was my comfort zone, I always walked around in my under garment because I was so comfortable there. There was little rules like no boys and be home before 12:00, But as I got older I did not follow any of those rules. My friends would always ask how come we always come to your house but you barely came to ours and I would reply because my house is my house and your house is yours besides I like being somewhere where I can be myself, I love my own space. After a bad sleep over