Two girls walk down a long, dark road. They talk about their day and what has been going on lately. No one dares go down there, because no one ever comes back. They see things long forgotten and better left in the past. They are trapped in their own minds, for it's a place that only exists in one's mind. A place you can only imagine and go to through a machine.

Dominique had created this machine. She had always been creative, but couldn't build her inventions. However, her brother could put anything together if given the right parts and the right tools. So, for two years, late at night, Dominique and Post slaved over the machine. Finally, they finished it and were now testing it. To Dominique's surprise, it worked.

The two girls know this road very well. They walked up and down it all their lives. Ever since her mom had died, Melissa hadn't actually gone back. And that is why the road had become so dark and twisted the farther they walked. Dominique had created this in her mind so they could both go somewhere familiar. She knew Melissa missed the place but didn't have the nerve to go back so she had created this scene as she was still testing her machine. At least she had some good memories of walking this particular part of the road so it was easy to recreate.

Outside was her club. It was two stories high. The first floor hosted the bar, the band, and a dance floor. The second floor had another dance floor and a VIP area where you could hold your own private parties for a price. Beside that area was a closed-off room to the public. This is where her machines were. They weren't open to the public yet. Once everything was running smoothly and all the kinks were out she would open her virtual reality booths to the club. They would come at a price to use as they didn't have preset places or rides you could go on. Instead, they took you to a place your mind thought up and you could do whatever you could think of. If you wanted to go somewhere with someone else then you synced the second machine to yours. This required an algorithm and a key.

"Dominique, you shouldn't keep things to yourself all the time."

"What do you mean, Melissa?"

"I realize we're in a place created by the mind, but it still lets you keep secrets," Melissa said.

"It was designed to do that, so if two people were on at once they couldn't see everything in the other's mind."

"I know, I know, but by the look on your face, I can tell somethings wrong. Plus, you're just walking and you seem to be very distant."

"Perhaps..."

"Perhaps? Is that all you can say?" Melissa asked.

"Perhaps I don't want to talk about it. If I do decide to talk about it, you'll be the first to know."

"Don't tell me then. See if I care."

"I know you care and that you mean well Mel, but I really just don't want to talk about it."

"Would you at least tell me what it's about? Just a hint?" Melissa prodded.

"It's life. I'm just sick of it. I'm just tired of everything. Nothing is exciting anymore."

"Yeah, life is getting right dull. Guess all the excitement from two years ago is over and you moving on with your life has just been that. Moving on."

"Can we change the subject?" Dominique asked.

"Sure. So, have you had any more odd dreams lately?" Melissa asked Dominique.

"I'm always having them. The same ones over and over. I never get to see what happens next. I must say that I wish I could see the end. I don't know why I keep having them. Every time I have them, I see things like flashbacks. It's like I'm recalling memories, but they aren't from my life. It's me in the images, but they're from a past life judging from the way people are dressed, and the way they act. It seems like they only started after I started testing the machine. I mean, am I going crazy? Am I imagining something that I want to happen?" Dominique responded.

"You have always had an imagination. Nothing wrong with that. Maybe you are just dreaming up another book. I don't know why you don't write more books and try to sell them. You are so talented," Melissa said.

"You know I don't let anyone read my books. I don't know why I get so embarrassed by someone reading them but I do. You are the only person who has ever read them and probably ever will. I love to write but I just do it for me. I like to think up stories in my head and sometimes I just write them when the story seems like it would turn out to be interesting. But usually, the stories I think of aren't very long and all the action is up front. I can't put enough filler in them to make them into a book worth reading."

"I think you could if you tried. I mean, look at what you're doing here. I never would have thought of this, let alone brought it to life. But you did. And look at where we are. I know you did this for me. I want you to know that I appreciate it. I haven't seen the house in a long time. I wonder if it's still standing since no one has lived in it for over ten years. But I know I couldn't bring myself to go back and see it all run down and probably falling down."

"It might not be like that. You never know. But I can understand why you don't want to go back. It doesn't feel the same anymore. I miss the place and your mom and I think that's why I can't go back there either. At least this way you can relive the good times, you know?"

"That's true. So, do you think the machines are ready yet?"

"No, unfortunately. They are great for a short time, but for longer uses, no."