I didn’t always live in the house I do now. I used to live in a smaller, cozier, white house with just my mom and dad and me. Then, when we figured out that we needed a bigger house, it was time to move. Now our house is as big as an old movie theater. Now our house has six people and a baby screaming. Screaming so loud that I want to jump up and down and do cartwheels. But our house is not like other houses. Ours is special. It has old violet, red, and brown bricks and old gutters painted green. My room is blue like the sky, and my bed is pink. Pink as lemonade, sweet and sour together. Our house has old antiques that creak like an old man in a rocking chair. When I am in this house, sometimes I feel crowded. I can’t go to my room with the sky blue walls and pink lemonade beds because my sister shares it with me. Sometimes I am bored. Same routine, nothing to do, nowhere to go.

By Annmarie, 4th grade

Photo by Yle is dreaming via Flickr

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