A place I call home is not the obvious. It will cause your imagination to start working as the story unfolds.
“A PLACE I CALL HOME”
I remember it as if it happened yesterday. The family was gathered around the Thanksgiving table, laughing and reminiscing about the good ‘ol days’. My mother grabbed everyone’s attention when she brought up the fact that when I was young, I would express my anger by developing a fever and falling asleep. What tickles my funny bone is that to this day I still repeat the same process. That became the topic of the table and I soon found myself drifted off.
The red and white newly painted house stood boldly painted behind the gleaming white fence. Walking up I could smell the fresh cut grass. There was a tire swing hanging from the broad tree in the front yard. As I entered I was breath taken by the apple-scented hallway. The living room took me by complete surprise, by its stunning appearance.
There was an oak piano in the corner with the bench neatly tucked under. The peach colored sofa and loveseat, was covered in plastic as though they had never been used. There were some long stemmed white roses in a pearl vase that sat in the window along with the ivory drapes. My suspicions caused me to tour the rest of the house. I was on my way upstairs when I noticed a hand painted portrait of my late grandmother.
My suspicions grew into fear, but I couldn’t leave. The first room I went into was kind of small. This nursery was very familiar because of the Winnie the Pooh motif. There was a dresser that had been in my family for two generations. There, draped across the amber crib was the quilt my mother made while she was pregnant with me. The mobile that hung above it was playing the same lullaby that put me to sleep as a baby. I removed my shoes because of the white wall-to-wall carpet. In the next room there was a toy box in the shape of a football by the closet, and a pair of unlaced tennis shoes in the middle of the floor. The twin-sized bed was in a shamble with a pair of Scooby-doo pajamas laid across the pillow. The nineteen inch television was on nickelodeon, and the goldfish needed to be fed. After tending to the fish I started to clean the room in amazement, because I knew where everything went.
I grew tired and took a short break. I resumed into the master bedroom, and there was a totally different atmosphere. The peach scent complimented the immaculate area. The thirty-two inch television was centered on the dresser. There was a fireplace, with burnt firewood. When I went into the closet there was a uniform for a commercial trucking company with my boyfriends name on it. I tripped and stumbled on the bed in panic. I hurt my arm on the corner of a wedding album, but there were no pictures in it. This was really strange, so I decided to eat.
I went into the kitchen and was greeted by the smell of my famous macaroni dish. “Now that’s what I’m talking about” I said to myself. After I realized that the kitchen was empty. I decided to go into the family room to think. There was a big screen television along with a stereo system, love seat, and a Lazy Boy chair that was in a position as if someone had been lying in it.
After going through all of this I noticed that there was a bottom level. It reminded me of a storage room. There were boxes of my baby things, my boyfriend’s keepsakes, and some things that belonged to my granny. After waking up and analyzing everything I realized I was walking through my own home.
A wicked Cajun Fairy named Robes Pierre entered the impenetrable Magical doll land of Sha Bebe. Queen Faustina, the ruler of the doll land, thought she had destroyed him, but he's back! Will the doll land survive his evil ways?
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A wicked Cajun Fairy named Robes Pierre entered the impenetrable Magical doll land of Sha Bebe. Queen Faustina, the ruler of the doll land, thought she had destroyed him, but he's back! Will the doll land survive his evil ways?
