“Oh, is it morning already?” I drunkenly mumbled to myself.

The morning sun broke through my curtain barrier, blinding me and forcing me to look up from the monitor.

Clack. My headphones tapped together as I let them hang around my neck. They clung tightly, begging for me to once again engross myself in the sound they had to offer.

I stood up from the chair, and wobbled myself over to the curtains, pulling them tightly.

My eyes darted to the calendar. A bright red ink pulled me in. It called for me to read it, but I simply walked past.

I opened the forever-closed door and walked in the other room inside my apartment.

Dejected, I glared at myself in the mirror. From my skinny build, and the yellowing teeth, to the patchy beard, everything about me screamed, “neglect.”

I grabbed a box on the counter next to the sink, reading the note attached,

“Take care of yourself while you’re gone! -Mom”

I read it once more, and exhaled deeply through my nose, opening the box. I rinsed the brush, and applied paste.

I finished quickly, disliking the peppermint flavor. Finding nothing else to do, I returned to the computer.

Before I sat down, I took one more peek through the window.

The height I was at made it hard to see but I could make out a group of friends, laughing and clearly having fun.

“Lucky,” I thought, “I gave that up a long time ago.”

Hours ran past, as I surrendered myself to the thoughtless pursuit of digital, “happiness.” My wrist ached from rotating it the wrong way, but I couldn’t bother to move the mousepad.

My eye caught the number in the corner of the screen, 1:42.

The doorbell rang. “I don’t get visitors often. Must be a salesman or something. I’ll just ignore it.”

Ding. The bell rang again. “Fine,” I thought, “I hear you.” I hobbled my way to the door of my apartment.

“Yes?” I said before I could see the person’s face.

“Mr. Bancroft,” The man said, panicked. “Your rent. It hasn’t been paid for this month yet.”

My landlord stood before me, impatient.

“Huh?” I responded, lost for words.

“The prior payer has canceled their renewal. The only thing I could do was contact you directly, since I couldn’t get a phone call through to you.”

“Canceled?!” I exclaimed in my mind, “That means Mother must have pulled out…”

“So, if you have another payment method, could you put aside what you’re doing right now and help me set it up?”

“Oh, no thank you. The person paying must have canceled by mistake. I’ll have to have a talk with her, I’ll get it to you by Friday for sure.”

The landlord was weary, but I had never missed a payment before this, so he had no reason not to believe me.

“Yes, that will do.” The landlord exhaled, beginning to solemnly walk away, “Farewell, Mr. Bancroft.” I closed the door quickly, but cautiously. I leaned against the door once it was fully closed.

I breathed in quick short spasms; shaking. I wasn’t used to interacting with people, let alone lying to their face.

I opened my phone, tapping the contact for Mom, and hovering my thumb over the call button.

“No…” I thought, “She definitely meant to cancel. What am I supposed to do? ‘Convince’ her to reinstate it? What kind of good-for-nothing son would I be then?” I powered off the phone and stomped over towards the computer desk. Again though, I heard the red ink on my calendar call my name.

I read the calendar. This Thursday was circled in bold, with an arrow pointing to it. It read,

“End.”

One part of my brain was greatly repulsed by this.

“What was all that for? You’re going to die a deadbeat with nothing to your name? What would the younger you say?”

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And yet another part of my brain embraced it.

“There’s more pain in life than there is happiness. You’re nothing but a burden to people. No one will miss you.”

I gripped my head, pressing my temples with my palms.

“I can’t take it anymore… I’m going to bed.” I spoke to myself, aloud.

I threw myself at the mattress, bouncing a few inches back. I sloppily covered my forehead with the back of my right hand. “I feel sick.” I thought, before surrendering myself to the unconsciousness.

Silence.

“Me! Me! Can you hear me?”

I rolled over, trying not to get caught up in whatever voice I was hearing. It was a young boy’s, recognizable very quickly. It was nostalgic in a way, and yet I don’t remember hearing it?”

“Me!” The voice shouted again, “Do you remember?”

“Remember what?” I reluctantly asked,

“Your dream.” The boy panted, tired from shouting at me.

“Dream? What dream?”

“Ever since you were a kid you wanted to become a master artist; to illustrate a world other than our own!”

“How did you-” I reminisce about this old dream of mine; putting to rest this long dead part of my useless life.

“Listen, I am you!”

I finally opened my eyes, sitting up in my bed.What lied before me, right in my apartment, was me.

It was me, but younger.

I stared directly through my old self. The excitement I used to have made me want to pummel this strange old me.

“I see. I’ve read about this before, I’m supposed to give you some advice to turn your life around? Well, tough luck kid, I have nothing to offer.”

“No. That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then what do you want from me? Look around, there’s nothing here that anyone would envy.”

“My dream.”

“Your dream?”

“My dream is your dream. And it looks like you’re having a hard time fulfilling it.”

“Fulfill it? You’re out of your mind kid. How do you think a deadbeat drunkard like me is going to become a master artist? I haven’t touched a pencil in years. Drawing was always just a passion of mine, not the grand thing you’re making it out to be. So, I’m telling you that dream is dead.”

“How will you know if you don’t try?”

“I killed it a long time ago, starting again just like that isn’t something I’m capable of.”

The younger me pursed his lips.

“If you can’t accomplish it, why? What’s stopping you?”

“I already told you that I’m incapable. If this is all you have to say, then please get out of my head already. I have a situation with the landlord that I have to fix.”

“Why? I’m sure that if you missed a payment, Mom would happily take it-”

“No. I was already at that stage. After 5 consecutive years of paying, she’s finally canceled.”

“Canceled after 5 years? Why can’t you pay? What about your job?”

“I- I don’t have one.”

“Then it’s all your fault. What is stopping you from getting one?”

“A kid like you would never understand.”

“But I can try-”

“Enough of your ‘trying’ garbage! That kind of sentiment won’t bring you anything in this cruel world! This unfair, unjust, G-d forsaken hell doesn’t give out awards for trying!”

“Who says that’s what I wanted? I’ll give it to you that this world may be cruel, but you can’t claim it’s unjust in the slightest, considering you contribute nothing!”

“Easy to say for a kid with no responsibility. I tried living in this world, but it rejected me. I refuse to step outside when ‘enthusiastic’ people like you just want to cover up your insecurities. I know you! You are me, and I know this as fact!”

“H- How long has it been since you’ve been outside?”

I glanced over to the calendar. I read off the year, then counted on my fingers how long it had been.

“4- 4 years. But what does it matter to you?”

“4 years… 4 years and you haven’t done a thing? 35,064 free hours and all you have to show for it is null?!”

“It’s none of your business!”

“None of my business? If it’s not mine, then whose is it? You are me!”

“People like you are why I’m leaving this world.”

“Leaving? What do you mean?”

“Make that up for yourself.”

“You can’t- huh?”

I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I rubbed it off with the back of my hand, but they kept rolling.

“It scares me! People like you! A person with a dream will stop at nothing. Nothing, I tell you! Do you understand how terrifying that is? I’m scared of what will happen to me, okay? That’s why I put down the pencil. Is that what you wanted to hear?!”

“It… Scares you?”

“It’s pathetic, I know.”

“But the scariest thing has the most power.”

“Power? Stop changing subjec-”

“You said earlier that you were incapable. What’s so scary about stopping at nothing if you can’t even start? Either the fear, or the incapability, one of them has to be a lie.”

“I-”

“You’re scared that you will draw too much, that you’ll draw now and make memories that you can never return to. That’s what makes you tick, isn’t it?”

I shamefully nodded my head.

“What you’re scared of is what you’ll do, so you’re not incapable. I ask again, what’s stopping you?”

“Nothing!” I snapped. Without excuse, I opened up to myself. “And that’s the most frustrating part, that it’s only my own stubbornness that’s to blame!”

“Then draw! Draw, and create a world that only you can illustrate!”

“You’re right.”

“G-d is so good that he gave you an ability, use it, or it’s an insult to him!”

“Thank you, me.” I said unashamedly at last. “Thanks to you, our dream will become a reality.”

“Goodbye, me.”

Having fulfilled his purpose, the past me faded from sight, now ceasing to exist. In that moment I dropped to my knees and pledged to G-d that my dream would become a reality.

Once again, I turned to my calendar. I uncapped a green pen, and crossed off end. Now, I marked it as “beginning.”