[ WP ] Write a story in which the main character prays to the author in times of need .

Smiling back at the cashier he took his bag of groceries and began to move toward the front doors of the store. Being in public always made him feel alone. He felt awkward and afraid. Isolated. There was something inside of him that drew in fear every time he imagined interacting with the outside. It was like the hands of God tightened their grip on each lung. Threatening to steal the life from him at every moment. Although, surely, this was what he had always wanted. 
 
 Walking down the street on his way home, the light from the sun brought warmth to his skin. The day was bright with potential. The sun seemed to bring light to places he had never seen before. It was intriguing. He saw the world as beautiful, but the light never made it past his skin. He was barrier between the warmth and his heart; his soul. 
 
 He took the stairs in his apartment. The elevator worried him. He didn ’ t trust many human creations. Airplanes, cars, elevators. What was the difference? They were bound to fail eventually. He always assumed it would happen while his guard was down. 
 
 Sliding the key into his apartment, he turned the deadbolt. He push his door open and looked around his apartment. It would have been nice if, just this once, there was someone inside waiting for him. Someone who loved him, or hated him. Just someone. Someone to talk to, or listen to. 
 
 He put away each item that he bought at the store. He liked to keep his fridge tidy and took a moment to enjoy the colours spread within, all sorts of fruits and vegetables for him to consume. He opened the jug of chocolate milk and took a large gulp from the container. He loved drinking from the container. There was no point in dirtying a glass. He had no dishwasher. He wouldn ’ t be sharing the drink with anyone anyhow, he knew that. 
 
 His apartment was pretty bare. A few pieces of IKEA furniture splashed throughout, taking up a fraction of his available space. He had a TV but didn ’ t bother with a TV stand. He had no kitchen table. One couch, a bed, and a coffee table. His apartment was simple. He had one bedroom at his disposal and that was simply enough. He couldn ’ t remember the last time someone had seen the inside of it anyhow. From his recollection, it was the plumber who came to replace his faucets. 
 
 Cruising Netflix, like he did with most of his spare time, didn ’ t bring much joy to him. He clicked the TV off and sat for a moment. Staring blankly at his black screen, he felt empty. This wasn ’ t something that was entirely unfamiliar for him. He felt empty most of the time. Just like the light from the sun, his skin stopped the world from touching his heart. 
 
 He sluggishly moved down the hall and into the bathroom. He flicked on his light and placed his hands on either side of the sink. Gripping the edges as if gravity would pull him away. He stared at himself in the mirror. Seconds would pass before he would blink. Minutes passed. Finally a tear made it ’ s way down the side of his cheek. 
 
 After a long while, he allowed himself to release his grip from the sink. He pulled at a drawer, struggling with it for a moment. It finally slide open with protest. Inside he kept his tooth paste, his tooth brush, but more importantly, razor blades. He lifted it from it ’ s resting place as tears continue to dance with gravity. One by one, drawing redness into his eyes. 
 
 He pressed a razor blade into the pale flesh of his forearm. And then he spoke. 
 
 “ You ’ ve been watching my life for a while now. I ’ ve noticed. I don ’ t want to be alone anymore. Please…'' 
 
 He pressed a little harder and drew the blade down slightly. A deep ruby drop escaped him. 
 
 “ Tell me I ’ m not crazy. Just say something to me! ” he shouted in desperation. “ I am done with this story, I am tired of being alone. Acknowledge me or I will finish your work now, as I please.''
