I've been asked before where home is. Sometimes in the literal sense, other times asking where my heart went when I thought of the word home. I could lie and say that, when I think of home, I think of my family manor up on the hill. The twelve of us living together, having family dinners, and playing games until midnight. That's not what I think of though. Whenever someone asks me where home is, I automatically think of Nathan's arms. His warm scent and gentle laugh that never fails to make me smile. I think of watching him cook or work a camera. Of the far off look on his face when he sees something worth capturing. I think of Ambrosia. Her dark hair a stark contrast to mine, brown eyes that share my own look of destruction in them. Her soft breathing while we work on homework; her shy smiles and soothing voice. Home is watching Chuck and Kyle banter over who gets the last slice of pizza. It's listening to Chuck talk about what's going on in the latest novel he's reading, and letting Kyle fume over his parents. Home isn't a place. It's a feeling. I've never felt at home among my DNA family. Because DNA doesn't make a family. Family is the people who are there for you even when they don't understand what's caused you to be the way you are. Family doesn't ruin you. Family doesn't hate you. Family doesn't expect more than you can give. Family is a constant wave of happiness and maturity and laughs. It's a sense of security and hope. Family gets you through your life, and my family is made up of my friends. My family is Nathan, Micah, Ami, Chuck and Kyle. My family loves me despite my cold exterior. They love me despite my bitchy attitude. They love me even through all the pain my DNA family has caused me. DNA doesn't make a family. Love does.
Adrian D Epps



















