Mr. E., a 55 year old man, stared out from his home, muttering under his breath angrily as usual, watching kids pass by on their bikes and scooters.
“Little girl,” Mr. E. grumbled, looking out at a girl on a bike, “everything’s perfect in your world. It probably always will be for you. But not for some of us”
Mr. E. walked through his nearly empty room. A bed, a mug, and nothing else. A big window sat right next to his bed. It was the only window he could not board up. All of his windows were completely covered, but it seemed that this one was impossible to board up. A problem would always arise when he tried. So he had to deal with the sunshine attempting to come through to him, though he never accepted it. He walked past the many empty rooms and down the creaking spiral stairs, wrapped in an old, dirty blanket. That was one of the few things from his past. He kept his lights off so that even during the day, it was night. He walked over to have his breakfast in his dining room at a large table that could seat 15, 20 if needed. But instead, it sat one. Mr. E. He sat down on his chair and made himself a bowl of cereal. Cheerios with strawberries.
Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t enjoy it as he heard a knock on his front door.
“I’m not home!” Mr. E. yelled. He hated getting a knock on the door more than anything. But this time, it especially shocked him. He had not gotten a knock on his old door for 10 years. He never ordered a package or food and no one else would even dare to step onto his lawn. He had the type of house you would see in a horror movie. It was an old white house built in the 1800s with moss and vines covering the house. Nearly every part of the house was broken, as it had never been refurbished. But a brave little girl dared.
She knocked again.

“What part of ‘I’m not home’ do you not understand!?”
She knocked once more.
Mr. E. growled and got up from his chair. He looked through the hole in the door and didn’t see anything. He muttered once again and started to walk back to his chair.
She knocked a third time. She was a persistent girl.
Mr. E. angrily walked back to the door, looked through the hole and saw nothing. He once again attempted to go eat his breakfast. At this point, Mr. E. was fuming. He walked over to the door angrily and swung it open. He squinted his eyes; he was not used to the brightness of daytime. He looked to find nothing.
The knocking came again.
He walked over to the door, about to scream, until somebody talked for him
“Hello! Down here!” Mr. E. looked down to find Lana, a small 9 year old girl with a bigger imagination than you could imagine.
“Excuse me, sir. There’s a plant over there.” She said.
“Congratulations,” Mr. E. responded and closed the door.
But, of course, she knocked again.
“Would you like to come with me to see it?” She asked him
“No” He was about to close the door, but she spoke again
“If I promise to stop bothering you, will you come see the plant?”
Mr E closed the door and returned a few minutes later with sunglasses and a black hat. He shielded himself from the light as he walked down the street and followed the girl to a dirt trail behind the town golf course. They walked and walked until Mr. E. decided that he wanted to turn back. But he looked behind him and realized he couldn’t go back alone. If he fell, he’d have no one to help him. The contact list on his old flip phone was empty, though behind it lay a list of archived contacts, that he almost forgot was there. So he continued to follow Lana through the woods until she stopped in the middle of the trail. She turned and started talking. At first Mr. E. thought she must be talking to him, since he was the only other person in the woods. But she was talking too quietly for that. She was staring straight at a tree. She continued this for about a minute, constantly pointing at Mr. E. . Then she proceeded to walk, acting as if nothing had happened.
After a few moments, Mr. E. asked “Who were you talking to earlier, when you were staring at nothing.”
“I wasn’t staring at nothing. I was talking to Lenny.” She said casually.
“You named a tree? And what were you even talking to a tree about”
“I didn’t name him! And he’s asked me not to repeat what he said”
Mr. E. grumbled once again, but continued to follow Lana.
After many twists and turns and going off the trail, they arrived at a small hidden beach. And there Mr. E. found 3 stuffed animals. Lana whispered to them for a while and told Mr. E. to sit.
“I think they can help you,” Lana said.
“I don't need to be helped. I thought you wanted to show me a plant”
“Shhhhhh, he’s starting. I’ll translate.” Lana said, pointing to the stuffed wolf, “He was hardly sheltered from the rain in a small dark cave. He had his mother and 2 younger siblings to support on his own. He was only 4, but last year, when the humans moved in, he was forced to become the leader of his pack. He was never taught to hunt, so he had to steal from the homes of the people. He scared them and invaded their houses, but it was what he had to do for his family. The people started to hate and fear him, but they just didn’t understand him.”                  “What ever happened to the plant? I didn’t plan to be here all day.” Said Mr. E. He went to leave once again, but remembered his empty contact list.
“Well, I think this is better than what you would have to go back to anyway,” Lana said pointing to a light brown bear. “Before I found him, he was in the woods, living with the threat of being hunted each night. He was hated by the other animals in the forest because they blamed him for the humans coming in with their torches and axes each night. But he wasn't scared. Just sad. His father taught him to hunt; to fight back. But he had lost his mother long ago. No one to comfort him. No one to help him resolve his conflicts peacefully. No one to help him make friends. No one who would always be there for him.”
By this point, a breakthrough had been made. Mr. E. no longer wanted to go home and he started reflecting on his own life.
She continued, pointing to the stuffed lion, “How was he supposed to protect the jungle as the king if he couldn’t even protect his own siblings? He was responsible for them but he left them when it really counted. This question flooded his mind each and every day. He abandoned his duties and left the jungle without a leader. But he’s doing better now and he’ll return home soon. The same thing could happen for you. All you have to do is focus on what could be better now instead of what could’ve been better then”
“You tell all these fake stories about these stuffed animals, giving advice, but you don’t know what it's like. You think it's easy to get through this stuff, but you have no idea.”
“Well, maybe not. But I have some idea. I lost my dad when I was three and lost my brother when I was 8”
“I was completely wrong about you. I’m sorry about that.”                                                  “Well, it’s fine. I realized that I’m happier to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.”
“Well, I- huh. I guess I never thought about it that way. I lost my whole family in a flood many years ago. I saw it, but saved myself first, and by the time I got out, it was too late. I couldn't forgive myself, so I hid with the only 3 things I had left- the house I inherited from my grandfather, an old blanket that was gifted from my father, and the breakfast that my mother used to make for me every single morning- cheerios with strawberries.I will never be able to forgive myself. Now I’m just like my name.”
“Your name? Mr. E.?”
“Mr. Enola. I’m alone, and my life is the wrong way.”
“I told you there was a plant over here, so that’s what I want you to do. Instead of letting your life go and letting the past reflect the present, plant yourself where you are, and grow from there.”
And so he did. Mr. E. moved on with his life. He came out of his shell. He learned from Lana and she learned from him. He got a dog. He fixed his home and met the people of his neighborhood.
He was no longer alone.