This is the first place I lived in when my whole family immigrated here to the United States. It was a fairly large house located in Elmhurst, Queens with a lot of rooms and a lot of people. My uncle's families lived on the second floor and my family lived in the small attic. Since it was a relative's housing, we paid very little rent compare to others in the neighborhood, but it was not really comfortable for a household with a growing teenage (me), which is why I stayed out most of the time. Though it did get better throughout the years, I was eventually able to move downstairs, sharing a bunk bed with my cousin. Nevertheless, my parents wanted to provide a better living condition for us, so we moved after around two years.