When I look out my window, I get a sense of recognition and home. I know that I belong there, and that I will always remember that view. I remember that windows' view as what I looked at when I was sad and upset, when I was curious, when I was happy. Everyone has windows, I think. But not all of them are simply windows. They are objects that mean a lot to the owner, but maybe not for anyone else. They are, in a sense, "windows" to the soul. My window(which is an actual window) makes me feel at home, and lets me remember all of the times I have looked through that window, whether I was upset or happy. Mad or excited. Calm or tearful. For me, my window hold memories. How about you?
My name is Shannon, and I live in North Carolina with my family. I love to read and write practically anything fiction(although this is not). This is entirely for my English class. I love cats, horses, and sometimes, dogs. I have two of my own. I'm only in 9th grade at the moment. I have two brothers, no sisters though. I'm a romantic, although I haven't started dating yet. I hate running, though I've played soccer for almost 10 years. Ironic, right? I'm smart, stubborn, not exactly pretty, emotional, and sometimes serious, sometimes funny. I like making people laugh and relating to people, although I don't always do it to often. I like figuring things out by myself, although I can ask for help if needed. I like hearing when someone likes something I've done. Is that bad? I'm Christian, and I sing in my church's band. I was born on Friday, October the 13th and so was my dad, so... hope your not superstitious!!