prologue.

"You aren't even trying anymore are you Marcus!?" Marcus's mother Aria, spoke with a tone of frustration and anger. 

She had barged into his room, tightly gripping his report card and breathing heavily.

Marcus glanced at his mother, noticing that she was holding his report card in her hand so tightly that it was crumpled from the base.

He decided that it was best to remain silent in hopes of avoiding her wrath.

Marcus's mother tossed the report card towards him. It fluttered in the air, before landing on Marcus's desk, "Look at that, Marcus!"

His mother exclaimed angrily as she pointed towards the report card, "straight D's with a C in history!"

Marcus glanced at the report with an expression of dread. He had forgotten that report cards came in yesterday, as he was busy playing video games.

Marcus groaned audibly as he realized he'd have to weasel his way out of this, "Mom I–"

"Don't you dare start with an excuse!"

His mother shouted, cutting him off, "I want the reason this happened!"

Marcus rubbed a hand against his face, as he sighed heavily. He didn't have a good reason; the truth of the matter was that he just didn't care for school anymore.

He couldn't just say that however, he knew his mother was extremely upset and emotional. Even the slightest mistakes would send her into a rage.

Marcus began pondering over a logical explanation for his failure. After a moment of critical thinking, he realized the best course of action would be to play on her emotions, in hopes of forcing her to calm down.

"I'm just tired Mom," Marcus spoke in a tone of frustration and feigned sorrow, "school just keeps getting harder and I can't keep up."

Marcus then sighed heavily as he looked his mother in the eyes, "The simple truth is that I'm just losing my edge, I'm not as smart as I once was."

"Don't say that!" Marcus's mother exclaimed as she stomped her foot down, "You know that isn't true, I raised you better than that."

Marcus nodded as he let out a deep sigh, "You did mom, that's why I was afraid of telling you the truth because I thought you'd think I was a failure, but I guess it's already too late for that though, huh?"

His mother's expression softened immediately upon hearing Marcus's words. 

There was a moment of silence as she raised a hand to her hip and sighed, she then spoke softly. "You know that isn't the case Marcus."

"Then what is it, mom?" Marcus asked as he leaned back in his chair with a saddened expression. "isn't that what you came in here for? To chastise me for being a failure?"

His mother shook her head as she approached him. "I will never chastise you for something so trivial," she said warmly as she spread her arms wide.

Marcus looked up at his mother with a dejected expression, yet on the inside, he was grinning.

His plan was working gloriously, and faster than he expected as well, it was almost too good to be true.

Marcus's mother embraced him with a tight hug. She wrapped her arms around his head and pulled him close to her chest, "however," she said in a slightly agitated tone, "I KNOW WHEN YOU'RE BEING A MANIPULATIVE LITTLE BOY!"

She began to squeeze his head tightly, causing a sharp pain to his head, "Argh, mama!" He howled in surprise and shock. 

This wasn't right at all! Marcus was in disbelief at how well his mother had fooled him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He exclaimed repeatedly as he waved his hands in the air wildly.

"Sorry won't cut it!" His mother hissed. "I need you to say you'll commit to working harder and stop slacking off."

"Ok!" Marcus cried. "Please let go!"

He pleaded as he began to tap his mother's arms repeatedly, signaling that he surrendered.

His mother sighed as she loosened her grip but not entirely. "I need more than just an ok." His mother spoke softly as she placed a hand on either of Marcus's cheeks. 

She then pushed his head back slightly and looked him in the eyes with an affectionate expression. "Say you'll commit to doing better in school."

Marcus looked up to his mother with a contemptuous expression. 

She's using manipulation tactics, the old good cop bad cop rodeo. Marcus couldn't even fault her for it, only admire his mother's ability and admit defeat.

"Fine," Marcus said grumpily. "But I hope you know that I'm reaching Bs at most, you want an A and you gotta pay me."

His mother chuckled as she began to massage Marcus's cheeks, "You get an A, or your gaming system goes in my closet."

Marcus let out a soft sob as he nodded.

His mother grinned. "Excellent." 

As she held his head in her hands, she began to examine Marcus's messy room. His clothes littered the bed and floor.

He had takeout boxes and plates on his desk alongside empty soda bottles that lined the wall.

"You really should clean this place." 

Marcus knew his mother was right to some extent, but she was asking for too much.

He would do better in school and get better grades, FOR FREE, but if she wanted him to clean his room as well she'd have to compromise with him.

"Absolutely not!" Marcus declared, "You should know more than anyone that pushing any further will result in negative consequences."

His mother looked down at him with an expression of gratitude and love. "Yes I know," she said with a smile, "just thought I'd try anyway."

She then removed her hands from his face and relaxed, the earlier tension long gone.

"Still school aside, I want you to do better in general. I won't push any further tonight, but I expect you to do better."

Marcus felt relieved that the confrontation was reaching its end. He knew if it went on any longer he'd most likely have agreed to just about anything to get her to leave.

Still, he also knew his mother only held high expectations because she wanted the best for him. 

"Of course mama." Marcus said with a small but genuine smile. "Now go, you're messing up my Sunday night, I gotta get this last gaming session in before nine."

Marcus's mother chuckled as her gaze shifted towards Marcus's electric alarm clock, the time Read as 8:09 pm.

"I want you asleep before nine mister." His mother said playfully as she pointed a finger at him. She then turned to leave, before stopping just a the doorway.  "Marcus," she said softly turning to look back at him, "I love you."

Marcus's smile grew as his heart skipped a beat. "You're playing dirty." Marcus said with a grin, "But, I love you too."

With their exchanged words of affection, Marcus watched as his mother exited his room with a smile.

Marcus then sighed as he turned his attention back towards his game. "I'll do better tomorrow." He told himself as he started another match.

He went on to play for another three hours, before finally passing out at 11:38 pm.

Marcus awoke around eight in the morning to the sounds of birds chirping and his AC fan blowing at full blast.

The sun was peeking through the crack of his blinds gently illuminating his dark room with a faint yet warm light.

Marcus groaned audibly as closed his eyes tightly, "what time is it?" He asked groggily as he reached a hand up to rub his temples.

His head felt as if a thousand needles were all piercing into his skull simultaneously, his body felt drained and worn, his muscles ached and he felt an intense stomach pain.

"Ughh," Marcus groaned as he rubbed his stomach, he had a feeling that the pain was from eating pizza and cake all yesterday night.

The pain usually never felt so intense, however, "probably because I slept through most of it." Marcus said to himself.

After a moment of wallowing, Marcus slowly began to sit up and rub his eyes.

He glanced at his alarm clock, his eyes barely widened as he studied the bright blue numbers, it was 8:15 am.

"Shit." Marcus cursed silently. 

He was late for school, but that wasn't what worried him. It was the fact that he had to walk to school, as he had missed the bus.

He leaned forward placing his arms on his knees. 

This was adverse for several reasons, firstly missing the bus meant walking to school due to his mother being at work.

Secondly, the walk from his home to school was an extremely lengthy journey.

And lastly, it meant he'd have to talk to the school secretary about getting a late slip.

With a frustrated sigh, Marcus stumbled out of his chair and began making his way toward his room door, narrowly missing the takeout boxes and empty bottles of soda along the way.

Eventually, he made his way into the bathroom, where he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. 

The massive puff ball on the back of his head was smashed in, he had a faint beard and mustache that didn't quite connect. 

His eyes were auburn brown with heavy bags beneath them and his face was riddled with pimples.

He began to run the sink water on warm as he grumbled about Mondays. 

He did his usual routine of half washing his face, and drinking mouthwash as a substitute for brushing his teeth. 

Once he was done he slipped on some readily available clothes from the laundry basket, then slung his backpack over his shoulder and with a heavy sigh headed out the door.

Outside Marcus was greeted with a modest spring breeze, it was a refreshing sensation after sitting in his room for so long, but he also knew that it was only the beginning of a long, painful, and boring school day.

Walking down the street Marcus struggled to keep himself awake.

His eyelids felt heavy, as if someone attached a weight to them and his head felt like a brick was attached to it.

He continued to walk down the street, his head drooping as he walked sluggishly, struggling to keep a straight path.

Marcus attempted to push through his drowsiness, before ultimately stopping himself midway through his walk.

He bent over and grasped at his knees while blinking his eyes repeatedly. 

"I can't do this anymore," Marcus said in a worn-out tone. 

He was drained both physically and mentally, and if something didn't change Marcus wasn't going to make it through the full day.

He began to consider his options, on one hand, he could continue his weary journey to school and only be about ten minutes late. He'd be exhausted, and would probably sleep during the entire first half of the day.

On the other hand, there was a café close by, however he'd enter the city. If he decided to go he could get there in about five minutes or so, but he'd be incredibly late for school if he took this detour, but the coffee would keep him up from the remainder of the morning classes.

After a brief moment of consideration for both choices. 

Marcus chose the second option, his sole reason being that he was already late for school anyway, so he might as well wake himself up with a cup of coffee.

With a new goal in mind Marcus resumed his journey with a renewed focus, his steps while still shaky, held a steady rhythm.

As he turned the corner, the suburban housing gave way to small shops, restaurants, busy sidewalks, and traffic.

Marcus soon spotted the café.

It was a small cozy building located at the end of the street. It smelled of fresh ground coffee and baked goods.

Marcus didn't hesitate to step inside, doing so he was greeted by a warm atmosphere and small chatter between the barista and a woman, who was dressed in strange clothing, "well," the woman said with a smile, "I hope you don't ever have to run into those stranger things."

The barista giggled, "Thank you ma'am that's very kind." 

The barista then leaned slightly to the right giving her attention to Marcus, smiling warmly she spoke in a jovial tone, "How can I help you?"

"A large cup of coffee, make it black," Marcus said with a yawn as he approached the front counter, carefully scanning his surroundings.

There was no one in the café other than the two women and himself.

The woman in the strange clothing glanced at Marcus with a curious look. "Hmm, aren't you a little young to be drinking that?" She said challengingly.

Marcus turned to look at the woman with a contemptuous expression. 

The woman looked to be quite young, presumably in her early to mid-twenties. She had bright pink hair and blue eyes. 

The clothes she was wearing consisted of black, baggy black pants with several pockets and straps that seemingly led to nothing. A white and black T-shirt that had a small front breast pocket on the left side of her chest, and a black jacket that looked rather thin all things considered.

"I don't care what you think lady," Marcus said coldly as he reached the counter. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the counter.

Elissa chuckled as turned herself fully towards Marcus. "You seem rather grumpy today, let me guess," the woman placed a finger on her chin as she studied Marcus attentively.

Marcus elected to ignore the woman, focusing his attention on watching the barista as she prepared his coffee.

"I got it!" The strangely dressed woman exclaimed loudly, pointed her finger at Marcus, "Your life lacks direction, doesn't it?"

Marcus didn't know how, but somehow this lady hit the nail on the head.

He sighed softly as he glanced at the woman briefly before turning his attention towards his phone.

"So what if it is?" Marcus asked rhetorically, "ain't nothing you can do about it, so bother someone else with your antics."

"Oh?" The woman said playfully as she crossed her arms, "But what if there was something I could do about that, what would you say?"

Marcus remained silent.

The woman pouted as she crossed her arms. "Hey, we're having a conversation here aren't we?" The woman asked in a pouty tone. "Why are you ignoring me?"

"Because," Marcus said in annoyance. "You're bothersome."

"Well, you wouldn't be saying that if you knew what I did for a living," Elissa said as she gave Marcus a knowing look. "You'd be calling me a superhero."

Marcus paused for a moment, he slowly turned his head towards the woman with an accusatory expression. "A superhero, dressed up like that? I doubt it."

The woman giggled as she brought her chair closer to Marcus, "I guess you're right, my clothes aren't all that heroic." 

The woman then hesitated as she glanced at the barista, who was finishing up Marcus's order, before looking towards Marcus once more. "But, I have a question."

"What?" Marcus asked suspiciously.

Elissa leaned back in her chair, "do you believe in the supernatural? Things that shouldn't realistically exist, things that are unexplainable or downright impossible?"

Ok, this lady is going off the deep end. Marcus thought.

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Alright lady, I think we're done talking." Marcus's tone was one of slight annoyance.

He was fed up with this woman's antics and irritated with how long it was taking the barista to make his coffee.

The barista returned to the counter with Marcus's coffee in hand, "That'll be $15.68, sir." She said with a warm smile, as she placed the coffee on the counter. "Are you paying with your phone today?"

Marcus nodded as he placed his phone on the scanner before him, he then paid for his coffee and grabbed it off the counter.

As he turned around to leave, the woman stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. Her grasp was gently but firm.

Marcus's eyes widened slightly at the woman's brashness, he turned to look at her with an aggravated expression. "What do you want?"

"I just want an answer to my question, then I'll leave you alone, I promise."

The woman's tone was of genuine sincerity, something that seemed out of place for her.

With a small huff, Marcus considered how best to answer the question. 

Typically he'd just say no, but this woman was persistent, so he needed a way to answer this question without continuing the conversation.

If he told her no, she'd probably ask several follow-up questions, such as why he doesn't believe in the supernatural, or what if he did see it, then what would he do?

If he told her yes, then she'd probably be more inclined to leave him alone right? There is no need to ask a follow-up question if you both believe the same thing.

In the end, Marcus decided to go with the second option. "I believe in the supernatural, there's too much going on these days for there not to be."

The woman smiled as she released Marcus from her grip. "I had a good feeling about you the moment I saw you walk through that door." Her tone was one of relief and joy.

Marcus felt his cheeks turning red as his heart skipped a beat. It was rare for a woman to have any sort of pleasant reaction when even talking to him let alone just seeing him, other the his mother of course.

Marcus took a step away from the woman, attempting to regain his composure. 

"I've answered your question lady, now I'm leaving."

"See you later Marcus," the woman said with a small laugh as she turned back to the barista.

Marcus barely registered the woman's words as he departed the café, his mind was swirling with thoughts about how strange she was.

By the time Marcus finally arrived at the school gates, he had already missed his first two classes. 

Entering the school building Marcus was met with empty halls as most classes were in session.

He signed heavily as he made his way toward the administrative office, his footsteps echoing loudly throughout the empty halls.