When I was four my mother put me inside a cardboard box with a black marker. I drew on the walls for days, making a world I felt was much more interesting than the one I currently subscribed to. I cut a small hole in the front of it... well, more of a flap that would let me peek out into the world to see how things were going. This is also how my mom kept me fed. When I turned 10 my mom got me a much larger box and with my black marker I drew my future. "I can't see what I'm drawing, mom, it's too dark in here," I said. "Turn on the light," she said. When I turned on the light a chill went up my spine when I saw the bodies. Bodies of my future self covering the walls of the box, scratching in their sleep... whispering secrets. Each one, wandering the darkness in the world I created, the world I had made for myself. I turned off the light, and asked for another box... and a different marker.