On My Way Home....

As I stretch my legs along the white halls, my feet pattering along the cutting cold floor boards, I can hear voices coming from the door of my parents' room.
They are loud whispers, echoing off the large walls and doors.
And then my foot hits a weak spot, making the whole house sound a large creak.
 And then the voices stop, and I can hear their door slowly open as a bright strip of light fills the hall.
  But I hurry down the steps before they have a chance to catch me, fling our screen door open and make an escape to the one I call "home."