Descriptive Essay On A Safe House

Cracks of dawn filled my vision as I ease my eyes open. My lips feel dry by being short of breath as if I’m running all day, soaked in sweat. Through the window float the warm breeze, making my face feel cold, gazing at the ceiling. I rolled over to right looking outside the window, clouds floating under the warm sun, quiet environment, peaceful place, away. I sit up on my bed, and went outside my safe house shirtless. Not even a small town near my safe house, jungle all around me, my house on the top of the hill. I stretched my hands in laziness, watched the beautiful view for a while. You can never find peace unless and until you are at peace from within. I’m living in this peaceful place, no extradition, but what’s the use of it when I’m lacking one within. I don’t know when and how I’m going to find peace within me. these nightmares remember all of it. Some say, ‘a man who has nightmares every night, is the man in pain’. Yes, I’m in pain and there is no cure, or I haven’t found yet. My safe house is located somewhere in the woods of France, up on the hill. One thing I can say is that the safe house is specially built for me, far away. It’s a wooden house not even a single brick is used. Probably because easy to build when damaged, when I burst my anger out. The space is enough for one person.

The safe house is nothing but a medium size hall in which everything is divided. At the entrance, there’s a small bed, over my bed there’s window from which the sunlight cracks on my eyes and wakes me. On the right kitchen and there’s nothing in which I can put my stuff