My Second Home

Haley Bunnell, Staff Writer

     The two story house is quiet at 9 a.m. on Sunday. I open my door and tip toe downstairs to make sure I don’t wake anyone up and pop some potato bread in the toaster. I scavenge the pantry finding 10 Gatorade bottles on the floor, and pour myself a glass. Then I make my way back upstairs quietly after fetching the toast, and watch a crazy chick-flick on the big screen TV. Three hours fly by and in comes two sleepy girls’, Samantha and Melissa Meyer, who plop right down on their couches to intensely follow Tumblr. This is what happens almost every Sunday morning, and I couldn’t be happier.

       My older brother used to tell me stories about how he practically lived at his friend Tim’s house. He would just walk open up their refrigerator and pour some milk into a glass. I couldn’t comprehend how the family allowed that. I thought it was just rude to not ask before digging into someone else’s house. But now as I have a key to the Meyer’s house, I do the exact same thing and I know his secret. It was his second home. Tim’s family loved my brother, Taylor, and Taylor loved them. And the twin’s house is my second home.

     To me, family isn’t just the people that you are blood-related to, but it is also the people that love you unconditionally and would do anything for you and you the same for them. They are the people who help you finish an intense English project at midnight because you thought it wasn’t due for another two days. They are the people who throw you a surprise party for your 17th birthday, cake-balls, music, bubbles, and more. They are the people who let you live in their house for weeks at a time while your parents are on vacation. They are the people who put on an intervention-like play demonstrating what not to do at college parties. They are the people who tell you what you did wrong even if it hurts and how to fix it, because they care for you so much.

      Both girls are so special to me, but in completely different ways. When I am at my lowest points, Samantha comes up to me, gives me a hug and asks in the sweetest and highest pitched voice, “Wanna cupcake? It always makes me feel better.” Those sincere words always bring a smile to my lips. When I come to school with a ridiculous story to tell, like how I went on a date with some guy who used to steal cars until he got caught, Melissa looks me in the eyes and says, “Oh, Haley! Get rid of him.” She always knows exactly what is best for me.

      I am privileged enough to surround myself with these two special individuals and their parents. I don’t know where I would be if it wasn’t for them inviting me to sleep over two years ago. I wouldn’t have had the experience of going to San Antonio twice, strutting our stuff on the River Walk. I wouldn’t have 600 crazy photos of the three of us posing with our most fashionable outfits. I wouldn’t have a place to go and a bed to sleep in when I just want somewhere to run to.  Friendship is a special bond that is infinite and strong. It is more than just some relationship, it is a second home.