“First you must see how it started,” I hear her whimsical voice echo around me as the room shifts. I found myself in a house I had never seen before. It is dark. I walk through it, stopping when I walk past a mirror. I gasp, I am not me but my father, living in his body, trapped in his memory. I continue, a hallway, a brown door appearing as he looks over his shoulder and I recognize the man instantly as my father’s best friend Alfred, who died in the world.
They stop before cracking the door open wider and peering into the room. A man and woman are sleeping in a bed together. My father walks around one side of the bed they were in before reaching down and lighting the candle illuminating the room. I notice my father’s friend on the other side next to the woman. Alfred grabs the woman by
