i went hiking in the woods behind my childhood home. i used to go back here to get high alone as a kid. i found the abandoned house, I had explored it a few times in high school with my only real friend Mark before we stopped talking. Mike would come along too sometimes. he died a few years back from an overdose. I had stopped talking to him too years before he died. last night I was alone. the inside of the house was different than how I remembered it. it still looked run down and abandoned, but more recently so. there was furniture, paintings, light fixtures that still worked. the walls are beige, moldy and peeling. long narrow hallways that open into small empty cell-like rooms. i get lost in the house, but I'm not trying to find an exit. I have no real goal but I need to get further in the house. I remember one time years ago when Mike ran ahead of me and Mark, saying he heard something. we had called out to him, but couldn't find him. wound up waiting outside the house for him, he had come out about 20 minutes later holding a stack of old papers that he wouldn't let us see. we had asked about it a few times after that but always said "it was nothing, some old junk". last night I kept moving through the house, I started to feel sick. the windows along the walls let enough light to let me see where I was going. I come across a set of closed double doors. when I open them I can't see more than few feet into the room. it feels big, like a foyer. I take a step in and can see a small face looking back at me in the darkness, about 20 feet away. I don't feel scared but something feels wrong. I wake up with a headache.