It's You.

1

"Why can't I just...!"
     Pushing away from his desk Sam Murphy has once again hit another writing block. He stood and slammed his chair back into place, making their way to the kitchen to brew himself a cup of hot chocolate. Hot chocolates always in season. They grab a plain black mug out of his cabinet which has white writing scrawled across it reading
"I'm the main character." Upon reading the words so untidily etched onto his cup, Sam groaned and rather aggressively set the cup down underneath the water boiler.  He shoveled in his coco mix and pressed Large Mug and the machine started dispensing steaming hot water. He pressed his face against the cold window of the door leading outside and groaned.

    "It's always raining." He rolled his eyes let out a breath of a laugh. "It'a always raining in books for some reason. Does it rain often for you?" The silence that followed bothered him not and he moved from the window to grab
his mug.

    "If you don't want to talk, then I'll do all the talking I love talking, so first, thank you for grabbing my book, I cant tell you how long it's been since I've wanted to talk to someone." Sam took a long sip from his coco expecting a response.

    "Okay then..." He awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet. "No conversation then? I get it, I didn't like talking to strangers either, but you get pretty used to it when strangers are the one ones who even care to notice me. So just whenever you're ready."

    He passed the door he exited earlier and entered a open area with a couch, a small electric fireplace, a coffee table stretching the length of the couch, and a tv mounted on the wall. Pulling out his remote he flipped through channels, the news, Sunday cartoons, some church service, apparently some celebrity died, an auction, and then he hit some doctor tv show, he stopped and set the remote down.

     "It would be cool if you could sit beside me. It wouldn't feel so lonely. Talking into the abyss. What if I just fell open on the ground and no ones actually reading me." He seamed to visibly dip lower into the couch.
"Never mind that, I'll talk anyway, maybe I'll find some inspiration, no?"
Sam gasped and stood up.

    "No cause, I've got it!" He rushed back down the hallway into the room he was in first and sat down typing rapidly. He sat there for a while, silent, honestly it felt like it would never end. He spins around and faces upwards at his ceiling.

   "Thank you! I've written the first chapter! It's finished! Can you help me with chapter 2?"