The only light in the room came from his computer screen, lighting up his face like an interrogation lamp. His right index pushed down on the backspace button. The words reflected on his face disappeared one after another. His eyes followed each vanishing line until the whole screen went blank. He saved and exited out of the empty page. No other screens were open. Only a wallpaper of a climber scaling a mountainside remained. He ignored it, clicked his file marked “Stories”, and moved the key to a garbage bin icon in the bottom corner of the screen. When he took his finger off the mouse, an “Are you sure?” tab opened. He paused. The “No” answer was highlighted blue, and if he hit the “Enter” key right then and there all his work would be saved. He let out a breath and looked down at the keyboard. He clicked the “left” key and now the “Yes” answer was blue. He squinted at the word like he didn’t recognize it. He closed his eyes and held his breath. He hit the Enter key and he heard the sound of a sudden gust of wind. He opened his eyes. Nothing was left. He closed his computer and slid it into his backpack. He stacked all the papers on his desk and then slid them into a corner. He got up, pushed his chair in, and slung his book bag over his back. He walked away, but stopped at the door. Torn-away paint covered his walls where his posters once hung. Creases remained in the carpet where his night stand use to be. An empty mattress with no sheets sat in the corner. He looked at his desk. The paper in the corner. The dust that aligned his computer’s once resting place. He turned around and walked out. His backpack with the computer bounced off his back following every step.