Is There an Outside?

     In my world, there are very few things that exist. There is me, even though I'm not sure who I am, what I am, or how I look. There is my house, that I've been in for as long as I an remember. Lastly, there is Outside, which is just a view, or an illusion for all I know, of mountains surrounding my house, covered in dense forests. I do not know where I am, how long I've been here, or how I got here; I just know I am here now.

     I don't remember a time before this house. I don't remember anyone else. I don't remember much. I just know things. I know how to speak, read, think, but I do not know the language in which I speak, read, or think. I know how to walk, how to see what is what, but I do not know who taught me. I know what a table is, and how to say it, but I do not know how I know this.

     I do get bored in the house. It's dark, there's nothing to do, Outside is out of reach, as far as I can tell; I don't remember ever trying to get Outside. I know there is no door. I guess that means there is no way out, but I want to get out. I want to know what is beyond my house, what is Outside. Are there more beings like me? Is there more to this world than my lonely house and a view of mountains and trees? I want answers, and Outside will give me answers. Let's go find a way Outside.

     Looking around the house, it's not as empty as I thought. It's a pretty big house, filled with lots of stuff. Most of the things I saw at first were big pieces of furniture that were immovable. Maybe that was because I don't have much strength. The house seems infinitely big, but at the same time, it's all cramped. I have walked these halls before, yet have never been where I am. Maybe the house changes its shape sometimes, or maybe I don't look around enough.

     How should I get out of here? There is no way out, as far as I can tell. There is no door or open window that leads Outside, so I must break out. I must find a way to break the window. After looking for some time, which may have been minutes or hours, I find a few objects that might break a window. I pick up these objects, and I set out to find the biggest window.

     The biggest window I have seen is a window that is from the floor to the ceiling, and wide enough for me to comfortably walk through. I stare at the mountains covered in trees, blocking anything else from my view, and I wonder. After I break out of here, now what? Will breaking out of this prison house only lead me to a new prison of endless trees and mountains? Is there really no Outside at all, but instead more of this house, where I will forever be alone? Or maybe, the view I see is fake, but there is a real Outside, and I will break out of this house, and be able to find my place among other beings.

     I am scared to see what lies beyond the window once I break it, or if I can break it, but I know I must try. I throw the heaviest thing I have at the window with the most amount of force I can muster. There is a crash, and the window shatters completely.

     The view I have seen for as long as I can remember was a lie. There are no mountains covered in trees. It was fake. Instead, there are only trees that are rooted into flat ground, and a path that leads away from the shattered window. That is the true Outside. Excited to see more of the world, I step onto the path and follow it.

     I follow it for some time. I know it hasn't been days, since I see the sky clearly from the ground. The sun was high up in the middle of the sky, and now it is halfway lower than before. The trees aren't dense either. The leaves from the treetops let a lot of light enter wherever I am, and it is pleasant.

     I finally see something different from the trees, when the sun is starting to disappear into the earth. It's a house. It looks inviting, with the lights on. It's getting dark, and maybe whatever lives inside is willing to let me stay for a while. The path I am on seems to be leading me to a door, so I follow it. I arrive at the door and I knock. No one answers the door, but it opens for me.

     I step inside the house, and although it was well lit, it is all dark now. I'm standing in the doorway, and the inside of this house looks very familiar, like something I've seen long ago. There is a gust of wind, and I am pushed inside the house. It is very dark, except for the fading sun's light behind me. I turn around and I face a window that goes from the ceiling to the floor.

     I just know I am here now; I do not know how I got here, how long I've been here, or where I am. There is Outside, but it is just a view, or an illusion for all I know, of mountains surrounding my house, cover in dense forests. There is my house, the one I've been in for as long as I can remember. Finally, there is me, although I do not know how I look, what I am, or who I am. In my world, there are very few things that exist.