Dustbunny First Chapter (Draft Number 2 Peepeepoopoo)

The moonlight didn't illuminate her silhouette, nor did it sparkle in her eyes. In fact, the two pupils seemed to be even darker than the black, night-colored room surrounding her because of the contrast caused when they're set in such pale skin. She turned away from the starless city sky and rested her gentle gaze upon me.
The wind rushing through the window swept up my heavy, black curtains, obscuring her in a way that made it easy to think she'd disappear at any moment. Slivers of lunar light dulled as they passed right through her.
The breeze made her fluffy side bangs drift towards the center of my room. I couldn't believe my eyes as some of her hair looked as if it were breaking off and fading into nothingness.
I opened my mouth to question her, but no words could escape from my lips. I suddenly remembered that tears had still been escaping from my eyes, so I broke our mutual gaze to turn away and wipe them off. She gently grasped my wrist, stopping me before I was able to.
???- "I know you haven't forgotten that dream. Please don't let yourself forget these tears."
Her concerned expression appeared as if it knew everything yet also nothing at all as she spoke.
???- "Think back to them when you're pursuing your dreams and the temptation of returning to this situation sprouts."
"W-what are you talking about?"
I finally managed to mutter some words, though they didn't express just how immense my confusion was. My wet cheeks burned an even deeper red.
Suddenly, she moved her hand from my wrist and wrapped both of my hands in hers… or at least tried to. They were too small to cover any much more than my fingers. Her palms felt soft and even a bit fuzzy.
???- "You know what I'm talking about the most. If you're not careful, the day after tomorrow will become yesterday. Are you okay with that?"
She was right. I did know.

I spend all my time trapping myself in an uncomfortably hot comforter. Oily and gross, the feeling that I should be doing something, anything with my life is prevalent in the back of my mind as I scroll, post, scroll for hours on my phone.
Locking myself in my bed has become some sort of an addiction for me, wasting my time away doing nothing of substance at all. It's so easy to just fall into the routine of consuming the constant stream of dopamine that is reading people's posts online. This has been so deeply ingrained into my system that no thoughts are needed to trigger opening the apps I do this on; muscle memory and my subconscious do it for me.
Every day is so similar to the last, so that anytime I look back on my week, it's a muddy, blurry mess of nothing. I know that if I want to go anywhere with my life I need to stop this,  and sometimes I even trick myself into feeling I am getting better by doing something slightly productive with my free time. Yet regardless of my half-hearted efforts, however, I always fall back into it in the end.
Before I fell into this blanketed ditch, I spent all my time working hard, stumbling about, and flailing to get some sort of self-fulfillment by making art. I so desperately wanted to make art as good and as soulful as those I admired, but now that desire has died down to the occasional daydream.
Today, I came across my idols' recent works and how much they've improved despite how good they were before. It was this that reminded me how enthralling the grind to get better was. To fall down hard during failures but also rise back up and even feel proud of myself afterwards. I remembered that that's what made me feel alive back then. This is what she was talking about.
Is there anything in my life that makes me feel alive now?

"I don't… I don't know if I'm okay with that."
She makes a big motion with her arm as if to slap me, but all I feel is a gentle tap. My jaw doesn't even budge an inch.
???- "That should be a 'No, I'm not okay with it at all!' Have you ever felt even a little bit satisfied about where you are now?"
Her frown and angrily-angled downward eyebrows meant that she was sincere about this, but the light nudge of a slap paired with them made me laugh.
???- "This is no laughing matter! Geez… I can't even get you to take me seriously."
She turned away and eyed the dusty mess covering my floor.
It took me a while to notice, but she had been casually observing the room as if it were scenery she's seen all her life. Lingering on what are random corners and crevices to me, her dark irises moved sleepily and slowly.
Although my tears subsided, the heat of embarrassment still burned my cheeks. I reminded myself that she was an intruder and that there was no reason to impress her.
"Who are you anyway? How did you get in here?"
???- "I didn't appear here to talk about me."
Still expressing the disappointment in herself from earlier, she kneeled and traced her finger around in the dust, somehow leaving no tracks in it.
??- "It should be obvious that I'm here to help you out.. If only I were any good at it."
She pouts.
"Well, you showed up unannounced while I was crying and started trying to motivate me out of nowhere. I'd say you had quite the odd action plan if that's what your goal is."
???-"I have no idea what a good action plan would be. I just knew I couldn't sit there doing nothing any longer. I decided to just say things I've wanted to say to you this entire time…"
"What do you mean this entire time? We just met and I don't even know your name or how you found me."
"I suppose you deserve an explanation. This entire time, I've been watching over you. Watching you cry. Watching you be unsatisfied. Watching you look so thoughtless, you might as well be dead. But I've also been around long enough to see you pursue what you love. I'm not sure what or who I am, but I do know that I am probably some part of you, just taking the form of a dustbunny. I've only grown so big because of how bad it has gotten."
Prevalent throbbing pulled on my forehead. I attempted to ponder which of the two of us was the insane one, but before I could figure that out