The room was lit with only a candle. Through the soft flickering light a boy could barely see his small room. It's only contents were a bed and a desk filled with things that were collected over time. Sitting on his bed the boy watched the candle as if it would tell him something. When he spoke his voice was barely a whisper; "I can't go on like this." The candle sat in silence ignoring his words. "I just don't know what to do." He picked up a stuffed bear and hugged it to his lap. "It would be nice to have someone real to talk to. Someone I could actually see and hear."
He stood up and put the bear back in it's place on the bed. Looking at a cross hanging on his wall he said, "I used to be able to talk to you. I could feel your presence watching over me and sometimes I could even hear you. What happened? Where did you go?" The light from the candle flickered making the shadow of the cross dance on the wall. "I know. Your probably telling me that you didn't go anywhere. You’re probably telling me that I'm the one who stopped talking to you. But can you blame me? How long can you listen to people talking about you and treating you like... Well, how long before you start to believe them? I guess they’re not the real problem. Though they definitely aren't helping any. No the real problem is me. I'm messed up. My life is a big, crazy maze. And the fact that nobody can tell isn't helping any either. Oh, Grandma, if you were still alive you would understand me. I don't know how but I know you would have understood me. You could look into people and see who they really were. You could see past the false faces they wore. I get that from you. With people I know I can tell when they are lying at a glance. Why can't anyone do that to me."
He sat back down in front of the candle and stared into the flame. "God, if I could just talk to you again. If I could feel you watching me I would know I can fix my life." The candle slowly swayed in overwhelming silence. Then a change was felt in the air. A peaceful breeze could almost be felt as the heavy air was banished from the room. "There you are. Oh God I can feel you. It's been so long that I didn't think I would ever talk to you again. Thank you. Thank you God so much for giving me another chance. With you helping me I can get my life back on track." The phone rings. "OH, NOT NOW! Please not now."
He picked up the phone and tried to sound polite. It was a sales call. He hung up the phone and looked back at the candle. Nothing. He sat on the bed heavily and strained to hear or feel anything or anyone. Silence. The boy looked at the candle as if it would tell him something. When he spoke his voice was barely even a whisper, "I can't go on like this."