Marcus walked in the door to his house after school, "...I'm home."

His mom held up a hand in greeting before grabbing her purse, "Marcus, I'm going to a friend's party.  I'll be back in an hour or two."

And without another word, without a greeting or parting word, without asking how his day was, she left.

Marcus sighed and muttered, "no you won't.  You'll be back late at night or early tomorrow morning.  Like always."

This always happened but this time, for some reason, something snapped and tears pricked in Marcus' eyes.  He longed for the past, before his father left and his mother sank into ruin.  He longed for a moment, however small, to feel safe and happy again.

Marcus went up to his room and to his closet, reaching up and taking down a box of his old things.  He took a small faded blue blanket out of the box and wrapped it around his shoulders after shaking it to rid it of as much dust as possible.  He sank to the floor of the closet, crying.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and he shrieked, jumping.  There was a boy around his age in front of him who shrieked as well, cowering with his arms covering his head.

"How did you get here!? Who are you!? What are you doing here!? Get out!" Marcus yelled.  Then he realized that the boy was... crying.

"hey hey hey no, don't cry," Marcus said softly.  Then he realized something... the boy had antlers!

Marcus brushed them off as ornaments of a sort as the boy sniffled and wiped his eyes, looking up with shining green eyes.

"Who are you, though?" Marcus asked again, though a bit softer.

the boy just stared at him, looking shocked and sad, "you... you don't remember me?"

"I can't say I do," Marcus scoffed.

The boy whimpered softly and whispered, "Marcus, I'm me... James..."

Marcus shook his head, "no you aren't.  James was never real.  He was just a figment of my imagination.  No one else saw him, no one but me.  I gave up believing in him years ago.  I'm thirteen now, I don't have time for silly games!"

'James' started to tear up, "Marcus, please, believe me... I am real... I always have been!"

Marcus hesitated then gently reached out and touched one of James' antlers.  It was solid and sturdy...

Marcus gasped softly, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.  He squeaked softly and then hugged James, "I'm so sorry, James... I promised I'd never stop believing..."

Soon the two boys were chatting happily, Marcus catching James up on his current lifestyle, and showing James his sketches.