Largely inspired by @Moonlightalone13's story So I Have This Thing. Go read it, it's beautiful.
I've only recently realised that what I've been constructing in my imagination is a mind palace. I've literally been doing it my entire life. All I knew was that I felt at peace when I retreated to that part of my brain, that it was an escape from the life that I frankly abhor. Now that I'm really aware that it's a mind palace, I think I can better define it and draw it out of the haze a little bit.
So... Let's take a tour.
The first room I constructed is the lounge. It looks a bit like Dan and Phil's old lounge did. There's a glass sliding door on the far wall that leads out onto a small concrete balcony. Catty-cornered next to the balcony door is a flat screen telly of modest, medium size, resting in between two speakers, all on top of a small table that's made of black metal and glass. The various gaming consoles (Xbox, Playstation 3, Wii, cable box, etc) and boxes are hooked up on the two shelves under the tabletop, and in the blank spaces a couple of toys that the boys and I have collected stand on proud display, including but not limited to a plastic wind-up spider (you know the one from Bugs' Life?) with my name scrawled on the back in childish writing, a solar-powered flower that sways back and forth cheerfully, and a toy sonic screwdriver complete with spring action, lights, and sound effects - Eleven's model, of course.
To the left of the tv stand are several precarious and disorganised stacks of DVDs and game cases, the highest coming almost up to my thigh. They're supported on one side by the wall and to the left side by two beanbags, one black and one yellow with a large smiley face, which have been kicked out of the way whilst not in use. The rest of that wall is blank, except for a door that leads into what looks like a kitchen.
I turn to my left, continuing my circuitous inspection of the lounge, and on the third wall is a black two-seater sofa, or a love seat, with a small end table in the same style as the tv stand on the left side of it, with a closed white door to the left of the table. The love seat looks ridiculously comfortable and I resist the urge to throw myself onto it and hide under the multiple galaxy-print pillows. Hanging over the love seat is a wirrow print, the one with the flying foxes. It adds a much needed splash of colour to the off-white walls. The only items on the small table are a few black coasters and an audio output cord. Upon closer inspection, it seems to run into four tiny speakers in each corner of the ceiling. I plug in my phone and Panic! starts humming quietly through the sound system. I smile and face the room again.
To my right, on the wall opposite the beanbags, is another sofa, this one larger, with a low glass-topped coffee table in front of it. More bright pillows decorate this black sofa, and a few comic books, coasters, and a small bowl of sweets litter the surface of the coffee table. The wall above the sofa is bare and white. I put my hands on my hips and resolve to change that in the near future. I think some band posters would be well suited to all the empty real estate in here.
I'm contemplating how to transport my posters from my room to my mind palace when a familiar face pokes around the corner of the long sofa. I cry out in disbelief and drop to my knees. "Andi!"
The stupid black furball lopes clumsily over and she can't lick my face enough to suit her. She's wriggling so much that I can hardly keep my arms around her to cuddle her close like I've been dying to do since sixth year. The music lilting through the speakers is overlapped by a different kind of music: that spew of laughter, tears, and happy gibberish that you'll always hear when two long-lost friends are reunited.
I kneel there on the rough beige carpet for ages, bittersweetly reuniting with my dead dog. The light streaming through the balcony door drapes itself over everything delicately, like white paper-mâché streamers. Dust motes hang in midair, suspended in the cool air of the lounge.
I rock back on my heels, play with my dog's silky ears, and think everything could be perfect here.
