My home is me and I am my home. They are a mirror of my origins and my foundations. As my home has carried me day and night, so I have carried it within me throughout my life. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get Original Essay Two years ago my family and I moved to the United States and decided to leave our home, which was in Egypt. The move was a long process with “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.” We left with bitterness inside; because home was like a part of us. It was a small, modest apartment in a great neighborhood. Although it was a small apartment, it was my huge castle that had protected me for more than seventeen years. Everything that happened in my castle is why I am who I am today, and since my home has built me ​​for a long time, the time has come for me to build my new home. My neighborhood wasn't just a place where a few people lived next to each other, it was more like a hive full of tasty moments and sweet feelings. Small, safe and friendly: this was the atmosphere of my neighborhood. The neighborhood was divided into four blocks, each block had four buildings and in each building there were five floors with four apartments each. Having the neighborhood divided into blocks made it very safe for me and my friends to play in the streets. Daylight saving time was best for us. We played day and night, basketball, football and cycling. The fun-filled noise was easy to hear from miles away. Of course, with all this fun, nothing was more perfect than a snack to renew our energy. Each mother in our neighborhood prepared a small snack for all of us, so we could continue playing. Till this moment I can still taste the delicious biscuits in my mouth. Block number one, building four, apartment two, was the location of my apartment. Our little nest was about the size of two classrooms in this classroom. It had two bedrooms and a bathroom. If you walked out the door you would see an open kitchen on your right and a living room on your left. At the end of the living room you will notice a small corridor, in the corridor there are two rooms and a bathroom. Like any nest, ours was warm and welcoming. Surprisingly, it would still suit many people. My mother would go and invite all our family and friends, and there would be room for everyone to share the feeling of warm love. My mother was the queen of the kitchen, yes, the kitchen was her kingdom and no one was allowed to make a mess. with his properties, unless you have received his permission. Probably because she is a great cook, she was a chef who prepares her own recipes and every meal tasted better than going to a restaurant. I was the student who kept his eyes wide open to watch and learn. Since we had an open kitchen, the living room always had two smells, the first was the smell of my mother's delicious meals, and the second was the smell of the detergents I would use to clean the kitchen. Finally the whole apartment always smelled clean and refreshing. Until the living room, my father, who was an interior designer, had designed it in a simple and classic way just to make the room comfortable for everyone. I remember that when it was night, he would go and turn off all the lights and only the bright moonlight would remain coming through the window. Then he would go to turn on the gramophone, play a classical piano record and then go to relax on the sofa. I went to sleep like this every night. The next morning I woke up feeling the heat of the sun's rays penetrating the window and reaching my hands. I open my eyes