My friends and I were riding around town and happened to be passing by my childhood home. The previous owners of the home had moved out and were putting the house up for rent. I asked them to stop because I wanted to look in the windows to see if it still looked the same as when I lived there. One of my friends discovered the sliding glass door in the back of the house was unlocked so we went inside. My bedroom was still pastel pink with a teddy bear wallpaper runner along the top of the walls. The carpet was still the same, and I recognized stains still visible from when we lived there. I firmly believed that one of my friends was there with me that day and was the one who found the back door unlocked. But when I mentioned that day to him, he had no memory of it and tells me it must have been someone else. I have so many dreams about my childhood home (always as it looked when we moved out) that I started to think that day never happened and it must have been one of my dreams.
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