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Descriptive Essay On The Old House

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I turned around, looking back at my old room. The paint on the wall is peeling off, the ceiling was falling apart, and the floor was cracking open. This was the house I have been living for thirteen years, and now I need to leave. Mom and dad bought this house from an old man, then thirteen years past, this is 2004. yes, it is already 2004, how fast is it! I stood there, staring at the empty room with only a little furniture. I can’t feel home, where is my home? I don’t know this weird feeling. Happy and sad at the same time. However, if I left, is it going to be an enjoyable life, or it is going to be another way that leads me to my doom? I kept repeating in my mind. Isn’t this what I was always hoping? To leave this old and dirty house? I told myself to not panic. I turned and look at the broken window, the reflection of myself. Dark black hair, brown eyes, and a friendly smile. Everyone like me in this village, if I move to a new place, they will like me too. Would they? Everything is fine as I expected. But, as I step into our old truck, as I heard the old engine’s rumbling sound, I suddenly realized what am I facing. I am facing the unknown, it’s like a black hole, you never know what is going to happen when you step inside. It's endless. As this thought continuously flows through my mind, my eye lid started to felt heavier, heavier and heavier as the truck slowly drives on the muddy road. Followed by the rumbling sound of the truck, I slept on the back seat. I felt

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