My house caught on fire about a year ago. The event was tragic, and it displaced my already dysfunctional family. Since our house is near the woods, we simply concluded that the house burned down from a forest fire. None of us were near the house when it burned down, so the event shall forever remain a mystery. My father was away seeing his girlfriend, so my mother and I decided to move in with my cousins who had a house with plenty of extra rooms.
We had a lot of pets, and my cousin was an extreme germ freak. We kept our dogs, who would be kept outside, and our eldest cat, who was reaching 15 years old. The rest we put up for adoption, since we were not close to them anyways.
I claimed the only upstairs room as my room, since it was spacey and widely unused until now. I set the room up as my room was at our burned down house. I laid down, turned off my lamp, and fell into sleep, reminiscing about the old days at my old home and looking towards the future about how my life will unfold.