My Favorite Place - My Piece of Heaven

Usually, when asked what your favorite place is, you’ll most likely mention a beach or an exotic tropical island. However, as luxurious as those sound, I simply cannot say the same. I don’t know when was my first time visiting this place of mine as I was a baby, but the feeling it gives me now as a teenager will always be cherished.

This special place of mine, is my own personal safe haven. My safe haven was a bright lemon-green colour where some parts died of a heat stroke from the sun. However, the interior aspect was what I loved most. There was just something about four-cornered, white-coated, joyful walls that would always uplift my spirit. The centered wooden table stood as my best friend and a napping area for when I was tired. Sometimes, I think this place is tired of me, as it is forced to listen to every mumble and soft cry uttered from lips, when the Versace belt kisses mommy’s hand and reddens my palm.

Inside this special place, there was a room with a king-sized bed. This bed could hold fifty million people as it was very large. Microscopic accessories filled the room such as different kinds of art, photos and bedding. The wall gripped a 4” by 6” subframe of myself when I started high school. On the bed is a light purple duvet with a big blanket folded on the end with a dyad black pillow set. The accessories are the things I think help make the room unique. On each side of the side of the room, stood two squared 20 by 20 purple nightstand with black doilies laying on top. It smells like french vanilla because of the bowl of dried petals and vanilla extract. It’s nice to get up to something like that. The fresh air repeatedly does a marathon around the room to give it the rich scent.

Overall, when I leave the distressing place of education, I escape here to meditate and do my homework. In the midst, grandma would appear with a hot pot of her seasoned brew of vegetables and chicken neck which I could smell from a thousand miles away. It was my favourite. Most days, I can perfectly lay on the dusty orange sofa parallel to the table for a good ten minutes, until the echoes of my name from my grandmother, surrendered to my eardrums.