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Watching all the old American made movies with my friends, I use to dream of how awesome it would be to live in the middle of all the action. Little did I know that my childhood dream would soon become an unexpected reality.
It was a dark, rainy afternoon. A kind of day that makes you feel extra comfortable within your home. As my mother was making dinner in the kitchen, which was right across the hall, I was sitting by myself in a big gloomy living room. I could tell what we were having, by the smell that was seeping through a wide crack between the floor and the living room door. Rummaging through my small stack of movies that I had seen a hundred times before; I was trying to find the one that I felt like watching today. …
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