Home Sweet Home

Yvonne Ameyaw

The deep voice of boys has been buzzing me all the time—the arguments when they are watching a soccer match, noise when they are playing video games, and most importantly, the intense quiet whenever the head of the house, my dad, is in the house. We become the most obedient children whenever my dad is at home. The heart of this place that is my home is filled with four boys and one girl—me. The place is usually loud, argumentative, and chaotic, with music playing, jamming, and a whole lot that sometimes makes me regret my life (lmao). This place is always silent when the boys are not around and turns into a “pub” when they are around. They always fight and make excessive noise when they are playing the PS5. The house is made with a beautiful brown couch and a wooden floor that when stepped on sounds like a cracked egg. My mom, my dad, and my brothers walk in and out of the house. The deep voice of my dad and the worrying voice of my mom is saying, “Please, can’t you go a day without arguing?“ whenever me and my brothers are quarreling.

The smell of my mom’s cooking is everywhere. Whenever I enter the room, the first thing I say is, “Is the food ready?“ and she ignores me by saying, “Go wash your hands.” Never shall I forget the time my mom used to scold me whenever I went outside to play in the sand. My home is the place where I can be myself. My home is the place where I can watch K-drama movies, laugh out loud, and also talk freely. Never shall I forget the house where I was raised. I will always love my home. Home, sweet home.