On the screen of my computer, in a program that I forged myself, a lone figure does a dance on a black screen. “That’s odd,â€? I would say, and commence hacking at the source until it follows what I ask of it. The likeness it bears resembles a knight in armor, and it, being without a name, was given my own. “No,â€? I chide myself. “Like this.â€? I plot out easily-read and concise instructions for my defiant doppelganger.

“Excel in school,â€? read the first. “Continue to practice the piano,â€? read another.

“How many new programming languages can we learn this year?â€? I query. He stares, before motioning himself to fend off an immobile, unresponsive dragon.

My dragons are much scarier than his. I’m not from an abjectly traumatic past- I still have my parents, who are still together, and are still free of smoking and drugs and violence. No- in my blessedly blasé life, I have decided to take up several hobbies, and, well, most of them stuck. Such as the piano in 2001. Or drawing cartoons in 2004.

Or now, programming littler mes to question the logic of their world.

My reflection spontaneously collapses. I’ve yet to determine why, but I speculate that the reason is that he’s figured out about the inevitability of his life while there is nothing to achieve. The window quietly vanishes.

I haven’t made a ‘Game Over’ screen for this program yet; I try not to think about the end at the beginning. No, I spend much more time thinking about the middle. Conquering the dungeon that is school. Reaping the rewards of a degree. Finding some means that will allow me to share with the world, this which I have worked on for a majority of my time in existence.

My character will have to surmount his aversion to life before this happens, mind.

I pull up another attempt at the program and the figure repeats his little dance. I sigh, and continue to edit the code. “This should be so much easier than this,â€? I would remind him.

His reply would be simple. “Life isn’t easy,â€? before collapsing again and leaving me to think of ways to fix what isn’t broken.