My father and I had lived in a small apartment complex on the outskirts of town, visiting Deb and Victor every week. I always loved their house, even back then. It was big, warm and had a front and back yard for me to play in. They even bought me a life sized doll house to have tea parties in, although they were too big to enter it. But when my father died and they adopted me and moved all my things to their house, it took me a long time to get used to living in it. I couldn't fall asleep in my new room for weeks. I had nightmares almost every night. Suddenly the big house felt too large and scary. I craved the little apartment where you could hear everything from any corner of it. I just couldn't call the new house my home.
I realized later that it wasn't the house that had to be called home. It was the people, the love and care they gave me. Home wasn't a place. It was a feeling.
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Teen FictionCalysta Harmon lives with her God parents after her father died when she was younger. The Harmons' are known for taking in 'problem children' which leaves Calysta with three younger sisters and a brother, all with their own issues. Calysta is beaut...
