Mind or Matter?

I watched myself walk through my house again, having seen the same thing over one thousand times before now. My ten year-old self stood on a oakwood floor in socks and pajamas, her curly black hair messy and brown eyes dull from lack of sleep. The same image I saw of myself every night. I was in the living room, flames surrounding me, blocking me in. There were high pitched sirens, however distant. And it was my fault... I had slept through a great deal of the fire, and hadn't known my own family was dying. I hadn't been able to help.

    I would walk across the slowly weakening floor to the hall and pass the smoke tinted walls, which held family pictures of my mother, my father, my younger brother, and myself. Some of the frames held only broken glass, others were intact. I passed several doors, but only stopped at the last one on the left. My parents room.

    Every night I would open the door, neither of them in the room, however a shrill scream coming from inside. And then I would see him...

    M.

    He had white gold hair that fell to his shoulders and menacing black eyes. His skin was the palest white, and there was a darkly etched scar in the back of his hand, an M.

   

    I woke up with a start, hitting my head on the shelf above my head and swearing loudly. Maybe later I could work later on taking it out, however now I needed to get ready to leave. I got out of my bed, throwing the covers to the side. It was dim, the dark purple walls casting shadows all around. I did not know where the light switch was, after having been away from my house for almost nine months at school. I'd only gotten back to Portland the night before, and I'd gone straight up to my room with greeting even my godparents or siblings.

    The white carpet felt soft against my feet as I stumbled toward the light switch. I couldn't see anything, as my glasses were somewhere on the floor near the bed. I finally reached the light and flicked the switch. I glanced around, taking in my room after all the years I'd been away.

    The white bookshelf against the left wall was filled with my favourite books. The wooden shelf on the wall in front of me, sitting just under the light switch was covered in small figurines. My favourite of them being a little alligator with the tiniest of gems covering its back. The walls of the room were covered in posters of my band album covers and sketches I'd done, almost concealing the ashy plum wall in some areas. The bed was the same I'd had since I was 10, that being just a queen mattress and a purple comforter, a couple plushies scattered around it.

    I grabbed some clothes from my suitcase and changed, then put on makeup and left. As I exited, I glanced in the mirror for a second.

    Almost exactly the same as I'd been at age 10, however now I was taller. I wore a black and red Blood on the Dance Floor shirt, grey skinny jeans, and black flats. The same way I dressed almost every day. Then, I walked out of my room, taking money, my license, and my name tag reading: Alissa Lane from the previous year for work.

    The weather was cool and damp for a June morning, the air foggy. It felt almost as if it was suddenly Spring again, however I hadn't been here for the past two Spring seasons. I'd been across the country attending the University of Los Angeles in California for Psychology. And now I was home for the summer, ready to start fresh again.

    I pulled into the parking lot of the local cafe, hungry from skipping dinner the previous night in favour of sleep. The building had been here since the same year I'd been born, 20 years ago. It was starting to show its age, the burgundy-coloured brick siding fading to an almost brown shade. The sidewalk around the front was dirty and marked the rain from the past night, the steps going into the building crumbling in one corner.