Home, sweet homeIt was December 22. The bitter wind swept the countless snowflakes across

Home, sweet home

It was December 22. The bitter wind swept the countless snowflakes across my front yard. My dad was there sweeping the 1. His nose was red as a cherry. With every breath he took, a white puff 2 into the air.

Inside, my mother was 3 the last of the boxes. As I entered the front door, the 4 that after today I wouldn’t enter through that door ever again 5 a hole in my stomach. I picked up my dog and sat Indian style with him in my lap on the 6, wooden floor. I had no 7 but to sit on the floor, for there was no longer any furniture occupying my house. I sat there in a daze (恍惚), just 8. There was no reason for my parents to make me, a once 9 12-year-old kid, 10. I had two best friends right across the street; I did well in school and I always kept my room clean. 11, this was “my house”. By no means did I want a couple of 12 living here. These recurring (重复) thoughts 13 around in my mind and I couldn’t find an answer.

Out of the front window I could see the orange top of a truck pulling in he cleaned driveway and I knew it was the other U-Haul. Instantly there men came 14 in the back door like World War Ⅲ was starting.

I watched 15 as the men, my mother and my dad loaded the truck. My dog even winced (畏缩) as he stared out of the window. I wondered if he was 16 , too, or if he just wished to play outside in the snow.

My mum came in, looking solemn (凝重) for my sake, I imagined. She turned 17 the overhead light, put the 18 in my arm and took me out of the back door. A totally 19 feeling filled my heart. For the first time in my life. I wondered what 20 would be to me tomorrow.

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