The place where i roam By Samrah Faisal

The place where I roam By Samrah Faisal

As members of the human race, we build small safe havens on this vast and scary planet on which we thrive and survive on, so huge we feel almost insignificant compared to the million who walked on this earth before us.

We all had one thing in common, no matter the century.

We built a home.

A place where we could be wild and free without being judged by society, a place where our weirdness isn't abnormal even though we all are weird in one way or the other.

Many found sanctuary in bricks and cement, standing tall and proud, houses, all man made.

Yet they don’t stand forever do they?

They crack.

They fall.

They break.

Or we leave.

Home isn't a place for me.

I've moved so many times.

I've changed schools six times in my 11 years of education while most barely change once.I

I don’t believe home is a place, never once did I.

I moved too many times to call a single place home.

Brick and glass can't make me feel safe, it makes me feel alone, because all that would echo in an empty building are the memories of the people that were there, not the building itself.

I call the people who stuck around through the highest and lowest times of my life home.

The people I carefully collected and kept oh so close to my heart,

They are home

They make me feel like I’m not weird or annoying.

They enjoy it.

As it once said, "Home is where love resides, memories are created, and laughter never ends"

And my home resides in the very souls of these people.

As people though they may change can rest inside my soul as much as I rest in theirs.

We are home for each other… and that is enough.

lost so many people, friends… connections, because of this.

So when you'd ask me, where my home is…

I'd say it's in my mother who stood by me even at my lowest, even when I was screaming and shouting at her, never once did she leave or turn her back on me.

I'd say it's in my father, the man who tried to get his daughter to smile or laugh by cracking a stupid joke or two or going out of his way to do something he doesn’t really like just to see her happy once more.

I'd say it's in my sisters, when the twins would come barging in to come look at me and spill some random gossip going on in the seventh grade.

I'd say it's in my friends, for never once making me feel left out and still talking about dumb stuff even if we haven't been in the same school or are too busy with our lives.

Illustrated By Sophie Haroon