Conflict for paper 3

I walked up the pathway leading to the front door of the two story house brick house. My presence confirmed by the size nine, indents in the snow. The lights in the house were all on, but the expected pop music and laughter that I have so often experienced at these sort of events did not greet meet. I adjusted my sleeping bag which was settle under my arm carying my overnight bag and raised my free hand to ring the door bell. I heard the chimes ring on the other side of the french doors. The noise seemed to last just barely longer than any I have ever heard, but I shook the feeling writing it off as paranoia. I had been waiting for this moment for years. I was finally going to be accepted as