I was sitting on the roof of a house today. The person who rents it has to move out next week. I was reading then I felt sad. I really liked that house. It was my escape from reality. It looked old and pretty. Whenever I felt alone, I would go upstairs and read my books. I felt like that was the safest place for me. I wanted to stay on the roof forever. I got so distracted by thinking about that stuff, I dropped my book off the roof. I wish they weren't moving out. I want to stay there forever.