Safety Lies Within The Home

I have always enjoyed being at home. When I think of being at home, a warmth grows inside of me and spreads out to the tips of my fingers until I feel like jelly, unable to move from my bed. Plenty of other people feel the same, that’s why they can’t wait to go home or get work from home jobs or become recluses. Safety lies within the home.

Never in my life have I liked the thought of living alone, all by myself, left raw and exposed for the world around me to beat, batter, and break. I was content with my life, the one I have always lived, and the one I will always live. I love my house and I love my parents that live within its memory filled walls. It’s like an oasis in the desert of the world around me. There is peace, tranquility, harmony. I love the warm and unbridled attention that it gives me, the love it offers back. My house gives me the warm hug that I long for, with its red brick exterior with two floors full of sentimental memorabilia and a finished basement I spend hours relaxing in. It has a life of its own and it chooses to live the same way I do; safely.

Outside of my comfort zone, there is a whole different world compared to the safety of the one in here, a dangerous one is found outside of the house. The responsibility for myself and the expectations that the people around me would have is enough on its own to scare me away from it. To have another person’s life at risk because of something I have done. Anything can happen to anyone, at any time, but especially being out on your own. The world is a scary place. I prefer only having myself to think about, less worry, less trouble.

Growing up, other kids dreamed of being old enough to move out of their parent’s house and into their own place. Million dollar mansions that they spent their hard earned money on to buy, full of furniture they picked out and paid for all on their own. Having the freedom to do what they want, whenever they want. Not me. I have always been perfectly content with living with my parents for the rest of my life. I have no big dreams of going to college thousands of miles away to party and drink my college years away. I’m content with doing college online just like I did my high school and middle school and elementary school. Inside my house was where the safety of my bed and blankets and parents lay.

I have no desire to spend more money on a house than my parent’s make in a year. It would be a waste to live out on my own when I currently live somewhere full of paid off furniture and bills paid for by my parents. I don’t even need a job for my own money, it would be redundant. I just need to stay inside and focus on my studies.

I’ve read enough news articles and seen enough movies and television to know what goes on in the world; war, famine, murder, mistreatment. Never in my life have I been mistreated and now was not the time I wanted to start. I like always getting to stay inside and be safe in my warm and cozy bed, in my warm and cozy house. I liked not having to leave. There are no axe murders waiting in my shower or gunman banging down my door or bombs going off in my room. My life is the opposite of a horror movie. I have parents that love me, a comfortable room, an endless supply of any hobby I do, and countless hours to indulge in whatever I want to (parent approved). My house is a sanctuary that anybody would be jealous of.

I’ve watched every episode of every teen show ever made at this point. I know the life cycle of sex and drugs and partying that goes on. They make season finales about people getting in car crashes and dying or people being shot and dying or someone getting pregnant and dying. The moral of every tv show is that something happens and someone dies, too easily. No thank you, that was not the type of life I wanted to live. I’ll give up the positives if it means that I don’t have to deal with the negatives.

I don’t need the types of pleasantries that these so called “normal” people get to relish in, friends and take-out and extended family and going out. My house is peaceful, unlike the world outside. What would I even do if I left the house? Make friends and go out to dinner with them or to the movies or out for coffee? Those are just opportunities waiting for bad things to happen, horrible things can happen. I could be shot at the movie theater and poisoned going out to dinner or going out for coffee. I watch the news, I know what can happen. It’s always best to listen to my parents, they are the ones who give me the access to the shows and the news and the reality of what goes on in the outside world. Outside bad, inside good. I don’t have to convince myself of that. It’s how it has always been and how it will always be, nothing can change that, no matter what.

Of course, even if I wanted to go explore the world, I don’t think my parents would let me. The padded door covered in my scratches and the industrial lock (covered in my blood from bashing my skull into it) they have on the door to the basement, my room, is enough of a deterrent for me. There is no experiencing the outside world for me. I’ve never been let out, and no matter how much kicking and screaming and begging I do, they will never let me out of my prison.