Think of a place you went to when you were younger but it now no longer there or is something else. Capture your feelings about this in your writing.
The house on DeJong Crescent is one of too many memories. When I was little is belonged to my very best friend. We spent hours upon hours playing pretend in the basement and spying on her sister upstairs. Every week we watched Survivor and ate nachos with our families. We spent our days biking around those streets and mapping our adventures. We dreamed big and planned our futures together all under that beloved roof. But years passed and we moved forward until our paths separated all together. You moved to a new house and me to new countries. We would momentarily be brought back together, only to find that we had grown apart in other ways than merely distance. Teenage years found us and things were darker and twisted than ever before. I made a new friend who warped my mind and deceived my heart, only to discover that he too lived on DeJong Crescent. In the house with four round hedges out front and a back deck that the sun hit perfectly. When he first brought me there I laughed at the coincidence of it all; the place that once held my innocence and youth became my cell of corruption and captivity. My habits and thoughts transformed into things a child would not do or think and that house was witness to all of it. To the joy and peace that was my childhood and then the darkness and chaos that became my adolescence. It saw me run with freedom and laughter and stumble around drunken and lost. That house was always more than a house to me, but a symbol of what my mind has been; once a sanctuary of hope and love, torn apart into degradation and fear.