Some people define home as a place, it's their shelter that they need;
it's a place where they can rest when they're tired in their everyday lives.
Home is their place where they can live for the rest of their life with their parents and their family.
But for me,
HOME is not a place;
it is not always a place.
Home for me is a person.
A person I can lean on when I need a shoulder.
A person I can cry on and wipe my tears when I need a handkerchief.
A person who became my diary when I'm having a bad and good day.
A person that I am comfortable with.
and,
A person whom I can express my own thoughts, feelings and a person who I can bring the best and worst of me but still understand and accept me for who and what I am.
Do you want to know who that person is?
It's YOU.
LOLA.
***
Author's note.
I wrote this story as part of our requirements in our subject in creative writing. I just want to share it here 'cause why not. This is based from my very own experience. Please beware for the wrong grammar and typographical error.
YOU ARE READING
HOME
Short StoryHome is not always a place. Sometimes its a person around us making us feel at home whenever we are with them.
