I always loved gazing out that white-framed glass, overlooking the bustling traffic and flashy lights of the city. New York was the place for me. It's where I grew up. The noisy, busy, hustle-bustle; the midnight awakenings by police sirens; the private all-girls school with the hideous uniforms - I'd choose that over the suburbs any day.

Yep, that's where I'm moving; the boring, silent, creepy, small, suburbs of New Jersey. Silence is too awkward for me. And my dad says that I have to go to a normal school! With boys!

My nightmare begins. I'm just about ready to explode because of the excruciatingly painful 70's music that my mother and father have chosen for murdering me. If I do not explode from painful, ear infecting music, I believe I will go into a deep sleep (or rather a coma) because of the equally painful boredom of this short road trip. Did I mention that I would not awake from this sleeping beauty coma unless I am kissed by a complete prince?

Although Brad Pitt would work too, I'm sure.

To my amazement, the road trip is not as long as I thought it would be. As we pull up to the house, my parents have purchased, without my approval, my mother shakes me. "Olivia, dear, we're here," she says cheerfully. "Time to see our new home!"

I am disgusted by this house as I climb out of the car. It is yellow, with a big lawn that looks like it hasn't been mowed in a month. The shutters are lime green with pink curtains in the windows! PINK!

Yellow, lime green and pink! Somebody call the color police!!

"We'll fix it up in no time," says my father gazing at his soon-to-be masterpiece. I guess it's true what they say about 'one man's trash is another man's treasure' or some junk like that.

I walk into my room carrying boxes stacked as high as the tip of my head. My bedroom is a deathly ugly shade of bright yellow that made me squint my eyes when I put down the mountain of boxes. The closet is painfully small, there's an old poster of Pink Floyd on the wall (which will definitely be taken down) and the room is dim from lack of watts in the light bulbs and the curtains covering the daylight.

I sit my cardboard boxes on my mattress and walk towards the pale-pink-curtained window. I slowly move the curtain and I am blinded by the sunlight of the afternoon. As my eyes adjust, I notice a black shingled ledge beneath my window. It's the roof of my house! And it appears that the window does not have a screen. So, I unlock the window and open it quickly, jump up and slowly climb out onto the roof. It seems to be sturdy enough, so I decide to sit down.

As I take a look at the view, I realize that this new house isn't all terrible. In fact, from where I'm sitting, I can see over the rooftops of almost all the houses in the neighborhood. I can see children playing baseball in the local field. A lake... there's a lake, with dozens of kids swimming and diving in. This view is in fact, quite magnificently beautiful.

It's been a month since I moved into this house. The rooftop view of course, is definitely my favorite part. I think I've finally found my serenity.