All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
My Second Home
My neighbors Cristian and Keith were the nicest people I have ever met in my life. I still remember my first time seeing them and their kids Logan and Warren move into the house next door. It was a blessing to be given neighbors. I had been struggling with life well before they arrived and could really use some emotional support. I was invited and eventually opened up and told my depressing life story. The all white house, with a dark red trim felt like a second home.
As soon as you walk into the house it's almost like you instantly feel safe. The house feels warm as if I was wrapped in my grandmother's knitted blanket. The living room was the best part to the whole house in my opinion. The cotton-like sofas were as soft as clouds as we would all sit there and tell jokes and watch tv. In the summer my brother, Logan, Warren, and I would all go exploring in our neighborhoods creepy alley. Scavenging through abandoned houses, doorbell dashing, riding bikes all over the city would be my life. In the winter we would all gather in the living room around a vibrant fireplace that made your skin feel sunkissed. The unique smell of burning firewood filled my lungs with heat.
Some of the best times I had at their house, took place in the backyard. The humongous wooded yard always called for fun times. I experienced a lot of firsts in this place. The most memorable first experience was when I made my very first smore. It was a humid summer night and we all planned a sleepover in the backyard. The sky that night was beautiful, the stars looked like salt sprinkled about black paper. After the camp fire was started, Cristian asked if I had ever made a smore before. ¨No, I replied¨. She was excited to the fact that I've never made one. After telling me how to put the smore together, I went ahead and gave it a try myself. I took my marshmello and roasted it until it was gooey all llllllllaround, then I added the chocolate and graham crackers, that's when the magic happened. Not only was I filled with excitement as this was my first time making smores but that taste will always remind me of that night, in that backyard, at that house.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.
This was a nonfiction piece that was writtien for my high school level creative writing class.