My house is alive, by which I mean that it is a fully conscious sentient being. That’s bizarre, but true. For when I lie awake at night in the darkness, I can distinctly hear it. It’s like a distant rumble of water flowing rapidly through pipes or wind rushing through a tunnel. And it moves too! I promise you it does! Sometimes I feel it swaying, even quite forcibly, and then I’m turned around in my room all topsy-turvey.
Another strange factor to add about this house, is that for the life of me I can’t actually remember moving in! I think it was about five months ago, but where on earth I was before that I’ve no idea. Perhaps I should ask my parents next time I see them. Maybe they know. No, rather, I just became aware that I was living in this house, which is alive, and thought: ‘Oh-ho. There’s something strange going on here’. Actually, when I say ‘house’, it’s more like a single-room bedsit. At first it seemed ample for my needs, and I suppose it still is, but what is becoming more and more disconcerting is that I swear the room’s growing smaller. That is to say, the walls are moving in on me. Either that or I’m growing bigger! I guess you’re thinking this is some kind of ‘Alice in Wonderland’ story or that I’ve taken some illicit, hallucinogenic drug. But no, I assure you that what I am saying is true.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very comfortable here. It’s warm and cosy, and I don’t even have to think about shopping for my day-to-day dietary needs are fed into my room by a tube which appears to lead to the outside. So, I’d be quite happy to stay here, if it wasn’t for the fact that the room is slowly getting smaller and if this continues I can foresee the day when I’ll have to consider moving out.
The walls of my room are actually quite spongey. I can touch them now, as they continue to encroach on my inner space, which I couldn’t do a month or so back. In fact, and this is even more weird than anything I’ve said so far, if I press hard against them I get the distinct impression that something, or someone, is pressing back. Wow! Spookey! In fact, I’ve recently started experimenting with this effect and begun giving the walls a kick. The result of this action can be quite dramatic for I then feel the whole room move with a sudden jolt which throws me around. But I seem to be enveloped in some sort of fluid-filled sack which softens the blows as I bounce around. I’ve also tried pressing my ear up against the walls. That’s fun because I then hear all types of strange sounds. Most of them are quite pleasing, soothing even, but I’ve no idea what they are or what they mean.
I don’t really want to move out. Not at the moment anyway. I don’t think I’m ready yet to go looking for new digs. Hopefully, when that day arises, I’ll get onto my folks and see if they can help arrange something for me. I know, I’m still dependent on them, not yet a big boy able to make his own way in the world. Perhaps I’m a late starter. But thank-goodness for parents, that’s all I say. The only problem is that I can’t see the way out. There doesn’t appear to be a door, and this make me wonder how the hell I got in here in the first place. If I had a mobile phone I could call out and ask for help. But I haven’t and that makes my situation here appear quite problematic. My only hope is that at some point in the not too distant future, before the walls begin to crush me, that a door will somehow magically appear. Maybe that’s asking a lot but what other hope have I got?
Anyway, I’m going to have a little sleep now. But when I wake up I’m going to give these walls one massive kick, just to try and let whatever, or whoever, is outside know that I am here inside. Maybe we’ll meet someday, if I ever get out. But for the moment that seems less sure than ‘Prison Break’. __________________________________________________