The house I've been living in since the day of my birth it carries a lot of memories, good and evil.

Whenever I see photos of my siblings or myself in that house I can identify where and what time of day
the photo was taken. I observed almost everything about my house. This house is what I found so
intrigued and interested in.
The messy and ghetto weeds that once laid grass, the 3 iconic cherry trees that laid in front only 2 remain
now due to the terminates. That’s just the outside, while it isn't pleasing and aesthetic it has a story to tell.
The 3 windows on the first window right next to the door that every Christmas showcases our tacky and
colorful tree. That’s just the outside and part of the inside, every section of my house has a story.

Every memory made in that house has stuck, and more will continue to be made. I have grown and
changed in that house, along with all my family. We have all gotten more angrier, gentler, and maybe
more understanding. Whatever happened it happened in that house next to the people I admire and love
the most.