A walk home

Everyday when I walk home I stop to look at the houses. Recently my family had bought the house we had
been renting for over 10 years...sadly we have failed to even remember  the reason we bought it. My name will
stay anonymous but what I must say is that I am 12 years old. As a young student, this road that I walk down every morning and afternoon has became something I think about often. When I was even younger I remember walking down the street with my neighbor's family looking out for yard sales. A few houses in and I already felt tired; sick of the perfectness of each of the homes. These weren't large mansions seen on the hill, they were just perfect. Perfect grass, a small pink tree overlooking green shrubs, carefully picked shutters, clean driveways and pottery barn decorations. However, today I made my way down the route I took everyday only to find; where the sidewalk ended. I was surprised that I had never noticed it. I put my bags down and sat in the middle of the sidewalk. This time, I was very confident I wouldn't be disturbed.