All winter break, I stayed home. After the last bell rang, signaling the ending of the school day, I hopped happily on to the rusty, squeaky bus. Once I opened the large, thick door to my house, I felt a burst of relief. Inhaling the vanilla aroma, I looked around the dining room. Near the entrance is a water cooler, gently vibrating. Next to that were water bottles, neatly stacked along a big glass window. To the right of that, there's a deep freezer, chilling everything inside of it. In the center of the room, there's a wooden black table, surrounded by chairs of the same texture and color. The table is decorated with rectangular black mats and a napkin holder and salt and pepper shakers. At the end of the dining room, there's a kitchen. Inside said kitchen is a nice black refrigerator with bumpy texture, yet soft to the touch. A black microwave compliments it, along with a small black and white dishwasher sulking in the corner. A white stove and over sits in the center to the left, decorated with a silverware holder placed in the middle.