The house I live in

The house I live in

The house I live in is a fiction, a construct, a fantasy; don't get me wrong, we live in a house, or a flat... a bungalow? a caravan? a tent? I don't know to be honest, but when I say we live, I mean I live... I guess.
   I... We... it's all a bit metaphysical, extremely confusing and more than a bit boring. but so that we, I mean I, can tell this story, I will tell the story from my... not our point of view.
   Is that clear? No? Tough....!

***

 My house is pretty amazing though, let me tell you all about it. The front door doesn't open, I took care of that when I built it. I'm never leaving and nobody else gets in. It has no walls but those which I have set for myself. Nothing exists therein but that which I will into being, (well mostly, occasionally pictures from the past intrude, but I just hide in a corner till they are gone, I never look at them, they hurt.)
   It has windows, oh yes two small windows through which occasionally I look into your world. Maybe in the same way, a lonely lighthouse keeper will look out of a tiny window to take stock of the weather and the mood of the sea. I try to avoid it these days though, it's such a confusing messed-up place out there. Too much information for me to take in. All those voices, people's body language, signs and symbols. It seems to me that when people say things out there, It's fifty / fifty whether what they say is what they actually mean. So when I have to, I mean absolutely HAVE to deal with things outside I tend to only believe every other thing I hear.
   Most of the time however I can safely ignore it. That's what my automaton is for. He is what I meant when I said us, he is literally the outside of the house. 
   I created him long ago when I retired to the interior. how long has it been now?
I guess after all this time he is a person in his own right. But as long as he keeps doing what I made him for, keeping the world out, I don't really care.

   Of the house, I can at least say this, the central heating is fantastic, always at body temperature and it's always tidy. Though now I think about it the soundproofing is not the best. Occasionally the sounds of outside get in, or the smells... come to think of it the tastes and textures as well.
   But most of the time it's just me and it is great. I play and replay episodes from my favourite shows and films, listen to music. and often engage in adventures both in the fantastic worlds I have read or seen in books, comics, films and TV shows or ones of my own creation.
   Just the other day, come to think of it I'm not sure how long ago. Time is a silky translucent thing in here. It moves in strange ways. I mean the last time I looked out of the windows, it so happened that my automaton was looking in the mirror, I was shocked I can tell you, The last time I had seen the outside of the house it was the pimply face of a teenager, then suddenly I saw sagging skin, dull eyes and shocks of grey hair. How long ago had that been?
   However I never age in here, never get ill and I get to go on such adventures as would be impossible out there. I joined a time traveller on a journey to ancient Thira and managed to save the entire population from the cataclysmic eruption which brought the Minoan empire to its knees. Next, I was in the far-flung future helping stop the human race from invading and enslaving the entire universe, I had a best friend on that adventure, a ball of living water, three and a half feet high. 
   Then I was called by my automaton who plays my favourite shows and films directly into the house through the windows. I think he likes them too, every now and then he will fall asleep in the middle of one of my favourites, but it's okay, I can still listen.
   I will admit though, that sometimes, very rarely, I feel lonely. From the way the outside of the house is looking, I wonder if it has any friends or family, did we ever have any? Are they all dead?  
   A while back I could swear I heard the outside of the house crying. I took a quick peek through the windows, and outside was a White room with a doctor sitting in it. My automaton was saying that he was so lonely and didn't know how he had got this way, then most shocking of all he said.
'sometimes doctor, I feel like there is someone else looking out of my eyes, channelling my thoughts, someone cold and unsympathetic'.
I mean how can he not know that I'm here?
I made him, didn't I? 
What if he forgets about me?
What will happen to me then?
Will I just disappear?
Cease to be?
Is he in control now?
    Hello? 
    Is there anyone out there? 
    Can anyone hear me? 
     Hello?  
   Please don't leave me...
   I'm scared...