I had come to the conclusion that I was losing my mind. Felix Jones; the nobody of nobodies now the school entertainment show of the week. For at least an entire week I was teased and questioned about what had happened on the track. This wasn't exactly something I was used to. I'm the class clown that no one knows about, and here I am: suddenly I wasn't a nobody anymore. In the worst way possible.

Now, I felt everyone's eyes on me for the first time. Maybe, I thought whimsically, I could handle it; I could walk to class without any issues-- sit down, listen to lecture for a couple of long grueling hours, and slip out of class to hide away during lunch. But no, it became quite the contrary if you ask me.

"Felix, my man-- talk to me."

"No."

I side-stepped Jordan, a quirky girl who was head of the journalism club at our school. No doubt, she wanted the scoop of my embarrassing fall. Because, lets face it, I slammed into nothing and passed out afterward-- no one really knew what I had hit but me. And even I question the truth of the story. I eventually chopped it down to hitting my head too hard on... well... something. Anything other than an invisible man. Either way, no one would be able to understand and I didn't care if they did or not. All I wanted was to be left alone.

"Felix, you're the limelight of the eve! Don't you want to be famous!" Jordan, with her overly large square glasses sliding down the bridge of her nose, swings an arm over my shoulders. She was much smaller than I was, but she managed the awkward maneuver before I could get away. I was now stuck to her side walking down the school hallway.

"No."

"Well aren't you just a tooten' mystery! I love a good secret! I'm sure you have a plethora of those. Rumor has it you were the one to fill the auditorium with water for the goldfish prank: my absolute favorite." As a matter of fact: that wasn't me.

I stopped walking with her and shrugged out of her grip.

"Well, Felix Jones, if you don't want to talk I can always go over to Stinky Link and ask him for what he heard about your mishap on the field. I'm getting a story for the paper either way." Her southern drawl clung to the words: her fake smile cutting the air between us.

I rolled my eyes and dismissed her. The little girl with short curly hair wasn't worth my time and neither was this situation.

When I arrived home that evening my mother had an assortment of canned soups lined up in the kitchen. She had a soft smile on and when she saw me it was like an oven was being preheated in my chest. My mother had this amazing ability to brighten up the ugliest of rooms with her smile. After this week, I was ready to spend the weekend watching reruns of Middle Eastern Machines-- a fashion show she loves.

The thing with my mother is, despite her beauty and general people-pleasing attitude, she hadn't been acting like herself. She was thin, too thin, and work kept sending her home because she didn't look well enough to perform. But, besides the occasional cough and runny nose: the doctors said she was fine. Though, I'm not sure either of us fully believe that (as much as we would like to). Her hair was a soft brown chestnut color, but it contrasted with her grey skin-- she looked lifeless today. Her smile was the only thing that gave her the illusion of life.

"Tomato or Lentil soup today?" She have me a welcoming hug. I was surprised by how much more thin she felt today verses the day before.

"Lentils sound delicious," I said.

She moved from me to the kitchen as I set down my school bag on the floor. "Coming right up!" She dumped a can of lentils into a bowl before nuking it. "So, tell me. What's on your mind? I can tell something is up. Did something happen at school?"

Taking a seat at the table, under the window that looked out to the front yard, I found it hard to deny the truth any longer. My mother had known of my past and believed me. But it had been years since I told her anything outright crazy.

"I embarrassed myself at school on Monday."

I could tell she was trying to hide a smile under her concerned gaze. "What did you do this time?"

"Sorry?"

"What did you do? Did you get caught?" She said, plopping the bowl of steaming lentil soup in front of me and taking the seat across mine to look me in the eyes.

"Get... caught?" What was she getting at?

"Oh please, I know my son is the trickster of tricksters. What did you do this time? When's the fun conference with that young handsome principle of yours?" I could tell she was only half-joking to make me feel better, but I wasn't so sure how she knew I was the one pulling all the pranks at school.

"First of all, gross. Second of all, it wasn't anything like that--"

"I'm sure it wasn't." She nudges my bowl closer to me, expecting me to eat. I got up to get a spoon and sat back down.

I sported a bite to eat before explaining: "I fell during P.E."

"That's it?"

"Yea. I mean... ya. I.. uh... ran into something, but when I looked up after I fell-- nothing was there." Okay, now I'm lying, but she doesn't need to worry about me and my hallucinations. She has enough problems on her plate as it is.

"What do you mean?" Her face falls dark for a moment and its as gone as soon as it came: like it never happened. Did I imagine that too?

"I don't know, forget it-- it's weird."

"Felix, you can talk to me." The look in her eyes kept me in my seat.

"No, mom, it's nothing. It'll blow over eventually. How was your day? How was work?"

She perked up immediately. "Do you remember Randy Marcel?"  Randy was an old computer engineer guy who used to be in book club with mom before dad passed away.

"Yea I remember him." I said.

"His wife is my new desk buddy! She's a very interesting woman, has a fascination with candles and books. She invited both of us over for dinner next weekend. Neither of you eat meat, isn't that a pinch?"

"She sounds lovely ma." I grabbed my bowl and took a large slurp. When I set it back onto the table, wiping at the corners of my mouth, I noticed something out the window. I blinked a couple times, unsure of what I was seeing at first.

"I think she's going to prepare her famous potato soup with chickpea mash."

I wasn't paying mom any attention as I nodded in response. My focus was on the front yard where a man stood in armor— clutching to a bow and arrow. He wasn't looking at me but he was attentive, as if he too were trying to look around for answers. The armored man crouched down and ran out of my sight.

I stood up and faced my mother again. It took me a moment to notice something was different about her. It was like the air around her was foggy, thick and heavy; a halo around her that was a muddy brown color.

"You okay, hunny?" She said.

I stumbled away, tripping over the chair before catching myself. Sliding the chair back in I fumbled for an excuse. "Um, ya. I'll be right back."

Turning from her, my heart was pounding against my chest violently. Knees shaking, hands reaching for the front door handle. I took a deep breath, stretching my lungs as far as they could go and stepped outside to follow my invisible stalker.