Freedom of speech is a warm summer day. The Fourth of July, cracking jokes with my family. Spending the day with my family driving the boat, looking at the display of America’s freedom flag that is overlooked from the lake. The red, white, and blue shimmers off of my sunglasses and leaves me to remember what it means; freedom.

Freedom of speech is the first day of school. I wake up and put on my blue jean skirt accompanied by my red and white striped tank top that my best friend let me borrow. I pack my lunch and run to the car, to speed to school. Voicing my opinions about what we learn about in class and peacefully taking in everyone else's different opinions as well. I am remembering the idea of freedom of speech and how I am in tune to my freedoms.

Freedom of speech is my home. I walk up to my black painted driveway, to my white and yellow house. My brothers race cars sitting in the garage and my dads black truck running next to it. Not everyone has a life like this, not everyone is used to the loud sound of rubbing burning on my concrete pathway. But with brothers like mine, they do what they want, even though sometimes it gets annoying.

The everyday things in life are the things people forget about the freedoms they are lucky to have. But, for me, its everyday that I never forget mine. The people who fought for these freedoms of mine are the ones I think about everyday and thank the most. Without Freedom of Speech we wouldn’t be able to have a voice.