Sam steps through the door, closing it behind him, and sets his newspaper down on the desk. He glances over at his picture of Emily and fights back another crying fit.
The bald man already sits in the chair across from the TV. A small dark light illuminates him. Most of his features are shadowed, but Sam could tell he looks to be at least fifty years old, with a large beer belly, probably accumulated from years of late night football games and fridge raids.
“Hello,” Sam whispers, nodding a bit and heading to the refrigerator to retrieve a beer.
“Hello yourself. I trust you know why I’m here?”
“Yeah I do.”
“You quit your job today, I suggest you give your boss a call and speak with him.”
“You know can’t stand that schmuck. He’s too uptight.”
“That may be, but you need the money.”
“I can get a new job,” Sam replied, sitting on the couch facing the TV, trying to ignore the old man.
“Why do you try to shut me out?”
Sam rolls his eyes and turns up the volume on the TV.
“You know that won’t work.”
The old man’s voice comes sharp, rapping through the back of his head, pecking away at his mind.
Sam shuts off the TV and glances over at the man.
“What do you want from me?! Why do you keep interrupting me?! I’m trying to watch the game.”
The old man smiles.
“You know why.”
“Just leave me alone.”
“I can’t do that Sam. You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you? Aren’t you? The gun is in the back of your dresser. Go ahead and get it then.”
“I-”
“You can’t hide it from me, Sam," the man whispers.
Sam sighs, looking into the man’s eyes.
“Why do you look like my father?”
“I don’t know,” the old man replied, “for some reason that’s the way you made me.”
“Did I make you? I never remember doing that.”
“It was a long time ago.”
“Before or after mom died?”
“Before.”
“I don’t understand, I never liked the old man, why would I make you like him?”
“I’m only a piece of you, I don’t know everything.”
Sam takes a long gulp of his beer, turning the TV up a bit.
“You stopped taking your pills again.”
“Yeah? Is that why I’m seeing you?”
“Oh no Sam, everyone sees their own at different times, different reasons.”
“Heh, so what are you here for? You gonna stop me from doing this?”
“Oh I don’t know, I’m going to try though.”
Sam stands up and heads for the bathroom. He shouts to the old man.
“If trained doctors can’t stop it, then you sure as hell can’t!”
“I can be very influential Sam.”
The old man’s voice beats like a jackhammer in his brain, soft yet sharp as ever. Sam runs water over his hands and splashes his face.
“How do I know you’re real?”
“I’ll never be real, Sam, I exist only in your mind, but I’m not a hallucination.”
“That really explains it,” Sam replies sarcastically.
Sam heads back to the couch, pausing at his dresser, but sitting back down nonetheless.
“I see you are still not certain.”
“I guess not.”
Sam bows his head then glances over at the old, bald man. Sam looks up and notices a long, dangling light switch hanging above the man now. The switch heads up into the darkness around the man.
“So what are you, my conscience?”
“More or less.”
“So why are you here?”
“I thought I made that clear.”
“No, I mean why are you here? Why are you trying to save a man like me?”
“Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“Yeah, but not me!” Sam shouts, his arms and shoulders trembling. He hides his face from the man, knowing that he is trying to hide himself from his own mind.
“Sam, look at me. Look at me,” the old man whispers, the way a parent sooths a crying child.
Sam glances up for a moment, his eyes red, cheeks flushed and wet from his tears. Sam can taste the bitter salt water of emotion.
“It wasn’t your fault Sam. Look at me. It wasn’t your fault.”
“But, if I’d just-” Sam stutters
“Emily’s passing had nothing to do with you, the same with the baby.”
“I could have gotten there faster! I could’ve-”
“Sam, this had nothing to do with time.”
Sam smiles, glancing up at the old man.
“You know you may be right. But I can’t help the way I feel.”
“I know.”
“And I can’t stop the way I act!”
“I know.”
“And-and I can’t stop what I am going to do.”
The old man nods slowly.
“I know.”
Sam stands and heads to the back room, tears no longer falling. He slams the door in the face of his mind and opens the drawer.
The old man sits still, listening to Sam. He raises his hand, taking hold of the switch and pulls down. With a click, the man disappears, swallowed by the darkness. From the other room, the gunshot sounds.
