Lonely Hearts

Elliot

It feels like every day is the same. It's an endless repeat of waking up, getting my brother ready for school, helping out the house, playing video games, going to work, more video games, eating, helping my brother with homework, and sleeping. The best and worst thing about the loop was definity work. It's not like I loved my job, but I didn't hate it either. It was the only thing that kept me going. I work at a coffee shop in West Village. The most interesting part is watching different people come in everyday. The regulars were usually college students and a few older people.

I really envy the college kids; I wish I was them. One of them was named Dylan, and he reminded me of who I used to want to be. He has a good group of friends, and he was studying engineering. He seems to be the life of the party, and I knew his future was bright. All of my friends went off to college, and I'm just stuck behind. When everyone first went off to school, we talked every day, and then I just started to feel inferior compared to them. So, I distanced myself. I didn't understand them anymore because I was no longer on the same level as them. I would get angry at them, at the world, and especially at myself. The world is stagnant, and I am doing nothing about it. Ever since my dad died, the life I wanted to have is unattainable. My mom and I took over the responsibilities he had. We wanted to keep everything as normal as we could for my younger brother, Daniel. Since my mom took another job and works night shifts to support our lifestyle, I help with the work around the house and my brother. The past ten months since he's been gone, has been pretty hard but I am trying to make it work. It's strange still feeling his presence around me, but also feeling empty at the same time. The hardest thing is being strong everyday for my mom and brother. Trying to step into the role of "man of the house" is one of the worst parts. I feel like all I am doing is trying to replace my father and I know I could never be twice as the man he was.

My dad and Daniel would always ride on the subway together every morning because his job was close to Daniel's middle school. Daniel is a little small for his age; he's twelve but still looks ten. My dad always wanted to protect him and made sure he didn't get pushed around.He was an amazing father. I know my dad would be disappointed in the person I am today. I wanted to be a software engineer, but my goals aren't important right now. I don't know what's going to happen to me in the future. I just know it doesn't matter who you are, what you do, or what you have. Life can be taken at any second and everything can be just like that.

I walked into work, and Jackson was already there. There isn't much to say about Jackson... not a lot of positive things. It's not that I don't like him; he just makes work seem like I'm working 10 hours when it's only been ten minutes. The day's have been going by so slowly lately. Barely any costumes were coming in. A new coffee shop opened up around the corner, and they stole most of our customers. I noticed this guy who would walk past the shop every day. He would never come in, just look through the windows. He was tall and very scrawny, looked to be in his late teens or early twenties. His overlook and energy reminded me of Michael Cera in Superbad. I think he works at the other shop, trying to find ways to steal the rest of our business.

"Jackson?" I asked

"Yea?""

"Come over here real quick. Hurry." I said, as I watched the man walk away.

"What?"

"Do you see that guy that just walked past here?" I pointed out the window.

"What's wrong with him?" Jackson asked, confused .

"Have you noticed that he walks past here everyday, but never comes in?"

"So?" He looked at me as If I was stupid.

"It's weird." I pointed but as I looked at him, I could tell he couldn't care less.

" Whatever, I'm about to take a break. I'll be back." Jackson said. He is the laziest person ever. I opened my mouth but then quickly closed, and just started to shake my head at him.