It's just a place we found to live in. I don't even know where my "home" is. Half of the doors here don't lock and the only type of security system we have are two locks on each door that leads outside. This place is supposed to be my escape. A place where I can forget about everything that goes on around me. But my door doesn't even lock, my bed is uncomfortable, and everything seems so blank. This dwelling place is just a house. Where my family sleeps. Fights. Eats. I wish I could live underwater. That is honestly the only place where I feel "at home."