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One early morning on a Saturday, Lenny was woken up by a constant ticking sound. After a week full of assignments, exams, and homework, Lenny craved every minute of sleep he could get. He groaned as his eyes opened wide. The sunlight seeping through his curtains was shining on his pale, pimple-ridden face. His old bed creaked as he buried himself under the blanket trying to hide his face from the sun. The ticking continued louder so Lenny sat up laboriously, his sore back aching due to him hunching over the desk all day studying for his endless stream of college work. It didn’t take long for him to find the source. A golden pocket watch gleamed in the shallow beam of sunlight, reflecting a bright white light back at his eyes. His hand instinctively blocked the reflection and inched closer to grab it. It was freezing cold. Confusion overcame him. Many questions sped through his mind as he flipped the smooth shiny object. His finger rested on the protruding button, and with almost no pressure, it clicked and the watch flipped open. On the right, the white watchface was stuck, as if time itself was frozen. On the left, an image was bound in a small, beautifully carved frame. Lenny couldn’t make out what it portrayed, but it somehow sent a feeling of nostalgia through his heart. A warmth that had been unknown to him for years radiated outwards. He felt a sudden urge to cry, but held his tears back, and instead shuddered a warm breath onto the watch. The watch began to warm up in his hand, and as it did, the dials spun slowly, but they moved in the opposite direction. His confusion grew even more as the dials accelerated. The warmth in his chest was replaced with a dreadful fear. In a matter of seconds, the watchface was turned black with the fuzzy blur of the moving dials. His eyes were glued on the watch. In an instant, they completely stopped moving.

Lenny’s breath came back to him. His eyes regained the ability to blink. His hand trembled, but would not let go of the watch. “What the-?” Lenny whispered to himself. His arm swung back over the nightstand and gently placed the watch down. “That… that had to be a dream”. Lenny laid down, hugging his pillow for comfort and forcefully shut his eyes. His heavy labored breathing calmed down, and his eyes slowly opened up. Lenny was surprised at the face of an old teddy bear, which was missing its left eye, staring at him. He jerked back, slithered under his cover and ended up falling onto the ground. His butt smacked the ground and he quickly recoiled at the feeling of a number of hard building bricks stabbing their sharp corners into him. Lenny sucked his teeth, swallowing the scream he was about to let out to not wake his tired parents. Looking around him, there seemed to be an endless sea of children's toys scattered on the floor. Toy cars, coloring books, a basketball, pens and pencils of every color. Lenny stood up, scratching his sore behind, questioning where this stuff appeared from. His eyes unconsciously looked for the shiny pocket watch, but it disappeared. Panic overcame him. He searched on all the surfaces, under the bed, between the sheets. Nothing. His panic grew and he started to pace around the room muttering and mumbling to himself. Behind the door, the white wall was now covered in scribbles, drawings, paintings, writings, and stickers. A flashback of the weird scribbling on the pocketwatch came to him. Lenny took a few steps back and found himself standing at the doors of his old closet. His trembling hands reached for the handle and slid the door ajar. The usual creaking Lenny had gotten used to was absent. As if years of wear and tear had just disappeared in the matter of minutes. The closet was dark. He could make out a few familiar items but still had difficulty to tell them apart. The small tug chain of the light bulb hung above his head, so he grabbed and pulled on it gently. The bright yellow light illuminated the dark interior of the closet. The colorful array of clothes that hung inside were the third of the size of an average adult. Pulling apart the clothes, the familiarity of them came to him. That same sense of nostalgia appeared once more. The sound of echoing footsteps outside the door alarmed Lenny. No one is supposed to be awake at this hour. His parents, who recently entered their sixties, are fast asleep and his sister isn't supposed to be back home for another semester or two. Without thinking, Lenny threw himself into the closet and hid between the hangers on the far right, closing the door behind him. His upper body concealed by the hanging clothes and his black trousers blended in with the dark parts the light couldn't reach.

The room door swung open. “Good night, mom!!” a young cheery voice shouted across the hall. “Good night, sweetie” a kind voice replied. A voice which resembled his mothers’. The door closed gently. The young child began humming to the tune of a song. Lenny then realized something. He never turned the lightbulb off. Light was shining through the cracks in the closet. Lenny made the risky decision to reach his hand through the hangers and somehow tug the chain. The metal hangers clanked against one another, but the humming didn’t stop. By the tips of his fingers, Lenny was able to reach the chain. He couldn't get a tight hold, so he pushed it away, it swung back right into his grasp. He tugged at it slowly. The click it made, followed by the disappearance of the light alerted the kid. He turned his back and stared at the closet, his chest heaving. Out of nowhere, the door opened up suddenly. This scared the kid, so he let out a startled scream. “You alright, bud?” a different, masculine, and still familiar voice asked. Through some sharp breathing, the kid was able to say a few words. “The closet… the light.. There was a noise..”. A sigh was audible to Lenny. “We’ve been over this. There are no monsters in the closet. It's just your imagination running wild” the man said. “But dad. I swear…” the child replied. Another sigh was let out by the man. “Alright. I'll take a look if you promise to go to sleep soon.” the father stated. A few heavy footsteps approached the closet and the doors swung open fast. Lenny pushed himself even further into the corner. “Look” the father said “there's nothing. Now go to sleep.” the father said as he closed the doors. A soft “okay..” followed by the child. A few minutes pass, and Lenny is still frozen inside the closet, but now he feels safer to leave. He slowly left his hiding spot, opened one of the double doors and crawled out. The bed on his left was empty. A feeling of relief came over Lenny as he let out a loud sigh. A bright light on his right, behind his field of vision shone onto him, followed immediately by a soft pillow hitting his head. Lenny crawled into a fetal position trying to grab the pillow out of the hands of his attacker. Once he did, he found a young blond boy in a bowl cut, standing behind the cover of a cardboard box. “Who are you?” the young boy demanded. Lenny had a moment of clarity. The young boy, the scribbles, the parents voices… This boy is Lenny.

Lenny sat up, using the pillow as a shield from the incoming projectiles, made of his toy cars, wooden building blocks, and a few books, his younger self was charging up to send his way. “Wait wait wait,” Older Lenny pleaded “just listen to me!”. The defenses raised by the younger Lenny were lowered. “Talk” he mumbled behind his cardboard box. Lenny stood up slowly so as to not startle the child, while still keeping the pillow for protection. “I… Am you” Lenny confessed. The young boy took a moment to process this information. His arm rose back with a ball point pen javelin ready to shoot. “I know how it sounds,” Lenny pleaded “but believe me. I am as confused as you are”. The ball point pen remained in a shooting position. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” The boy asked. Lenny looked around from behind his pillow. His eyes landed on the teddy laying on the bed. “Sargent Honey” Lenny pointed to the bear “you, or I, ripped out his left eye because we were acting out a scene. A zombie infection took over the world, and we bit his eye out. We choked on it. Dad had to squeeze our belly for us to spit it out.” The boy lowered his weapon and left the confines of his cardboard box. Lenny sighed and collapsed onto the bed, cupping his face with one hand. The boy timidly walked towards the bed and sat next to him. “How old are you?” the boy asked, his hands tucked between his legs. Lenny looked at his younger self. “Really dude?” he sighed “I’m 23. One semester away from graduating college.” The boy's eyes lit up. “I’m gonna go to college?” the boy exclaimed “that’s so cool. What are you studying?”. Lenny’s eyes fell on the scribble filled wall. “Finance…” he said with depression in his voice. A moment of silence fell between the two, so Lenny looked back to himself. His eyes wandered to the floor, looking sad. “What’s wrong?” Lenny asked. The boy looked at Lenny with an expression that felt like betrayal. “I wanted to go to film school…” the boy said sadly. “Finance is safe.” Lenny explained “I could secure a job. Not end up homeless or something”. Another moment of silence fell between the two. However, this one was much heavier than the first. The boy sprang out of bed and rummaged through a chest which was still in the corner of the room. After finding what he was looking for, he sprinted back to his sitting place. A large notebook plopped onto the bed. “Do you remember this?” the young boy asked. Lenny couldn't recognize it. He ran through his gallery of memories but none included this book, so he shook his head slightly. The young boy opened up the book. Crudely written in a colorful font with a bunch of markers was ‘The Dream Book’. The little boy explained that he would journal out what he would like to do when he grew up in this book. He flipped it around and Lenny began to read. ‘Go to film school’ was the first title. Under it, a detailed description was jotted down. Plans of what projects to make, what awards to win, who to work with. He flipped the page and continued reading as memories of his young, ‘naive’ dreams came flooding back. He wanted to paint, sing, draw, sculpt, write, and dance. His eyes swelled up with tears as he watched his life in a film reel. His ambitions drowned out into what is ‘safe’. His dreams fleeting away to work at a desk job. His mind, which used to create worlds from scratch, would now try to calculate profits for a company he doesn't even own.

Lenny couldn't stand to look at this book any longer. He turned the pages and closed the hardcover over them, his fingers brushing over the black leather. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The boy attempted to comfort Lenny by placing his tiny hand on his. Lenny looked at his own eyes. He could see sadness, disappointment… pity. “I’m sorry…” Lenny said, pushing through the erratic breathing. The boy moved the book aside and inched closed to Lenny, placing his head on Lenny’s chest. “It’s okay” the boy whispered. Lenny hugged the boy for what felt like an eternity. The boy pulled away, his face now concerned as he made a realization. “How are you gonna get back?” he asked. Lenny wiped his tears away and looked back on the nightstand. “Have you seen a golden pocket watch?”. The boy took a second to think. “Granpas’ watch?” the boy replied. Visible confusion came on Lenny’s face, so the boy went back to the same chest, book in hand. After heaving it back open, he gently placed the black notebook back inside, and looked around. A minute later, he pulled out a shiny pocket watch out of the chest. Slowly, he walked back, but didn't sit. Holding the watch with his two small, cupped hands, he offered it to Lenny. “This was grandpas’?’” Lenny asked somberly. The young kid nodded. Lenny took the watch from the boy's hands, brushing his thumb on the shiny surface. Not a single smudge, print or scratch was on it. He pressed the button on the side and the watch swung open. The scribbles on the left side were now gone, and the dials on the right were frozen. “Grandpa said that it’ll help me someday.” The boy explained “he said it’ll help me find myself.”. Lenny let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah I guess it has” Lenny said.

Lenny, with the watch in his right hand, put his left hand on the boy's shoulder, then pulled him in for a final embrace. “Don’t lose yourself, bud” Lenny whispered to himself “Goodbye.”. Pushing away from the boy, he pressed the crown of the watch and it began spinning out of control once more, but this time, going clockwise. His eyes fixated on the watch again. He wasn’t scared, but even now he couldn’t look away. As it did before, the dials stopped suddenly with a loud click. Lenny’s eyes were mobile once again. The boy was gone. The scribbles on the wall, the toys on the floor, the chest in the corner were all gone. His text books, pens, calculator and notes were scattered all over the room now. Lenny sighed. His aching back flared up once more as he stood up, treading towards his desk. He pulled out the chair, sat down and opened the desk drawer. Inside, were art supplies that had collected dust from years of disuse. He grabbed a sketchbook and a pencil. While putting on some music, Lenny drew his first pen stroke in years.