The sterile smell of the hospital invaded Marx's nostrils. He felt that old tightening of his chest that he got whenever he entered a hospital seize him. He didn't know why, but they made him nervous.

Tamara squeezed his hand to reassure him. She knew he hated hospitals, and knew both of them were worried for his mom. They exchanged a glance that had meaning to no one but them. Lisa and Tim were on either side of the children as they walked down the hallway. They noticed the silent exchange between Marx and Tamara but didn't say anything.

They stopped before a simple white door. Though he thought it should be pounding in his ears, Marx couldn't hear his heartbeat. He felt the calm that always comes before a storm settle over the four of them and prepared himself for what was ahead.

He gently opened the door and stepped inside. The sterile smell was stronger in here, and the lights were dimmer. A cloth screen obscured the bed where his mother laid. The four walked over silently. A nurse came around the side of the screen with worry written all over her face. She cleared her expression when she saw them walk in and plastered on a fake smile to hide her concern.

"You must be Susan's daughter," She said, turning to Tamara.

"No, I'm not." She said quietly, a strange look on her face. It was almost angry. The nurse looked embarrassed and cleared her throat.

"Sorry, dear. You must be her son, correct?" She said, turning to Marx. He nodded silently, not amused by how little he resembled his mother. His dark hair, pale complexion, and mismatched eyes-one green one blue-couldn't be any more set apart from his mother's naturally tan skin, fairer hair, and deep blue eyes than a pebble was set apart from a star.

The nurse beckoned him towards the screen. "Come along and see her, then. She should be calm enough by now for visitors." Marx was dead silent as he went forward with the nurse. She stopped him right before he could see around the screen. She looked him in the eyes and lowered her voice, speaking calmly and firmly. "Now, she's been saying some pretty strange things and I want you to be prepa-" Marx felt himself glare at the woman without wanting to. "I know she's been saying horrible things because she's been saying them about me." He hissed. It felt good to relieve the stress of the past few days by getting angry at someone whose name he didn't even know. The woman flinched back a little.

His mother had told him that he should never act this way and he felt guilt take the place of anger. His face collapsed in on itself as sadness threatened to overwhelm him.

"It's alright, dear, you just calm down a little before you see her, okay?" The nurse said, recovering from her slight shock. She'd obviously said this hundreds of times before and it made Marx feel sick.

He wiped his eyes angrily and pushed past her to see his mother lying with her eyes open, staring at he ceiling. Her eyes shifted to look at him and Marx noticed how cloudy and dull they were. She's on medication, he realised.

"Mom," He said.

Susan opened her mouth and took a deep breath in, her voice low and full of regret. "My poor child... So young and already doomed." Marx took in a sharp intake of breath. He steeled his tattered nerves and took a tiny step closer. "Mom, it's me. Marx," He said. "It's me." He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"He was so young to have died... His soul was forced out of his body."

"Mom, I'm just me, just how I've always been. I'm not any different than when I was a baby. I'm just me." He said earnestly.

"Your thirteen eyes are just below the surface, waiting for the darkness to let the rest of the world see what you really are," She hissed, her pupils shrinking until they were tiny dots. Her heart rate monitor showed that her heartbeat had sped up noticeably. Marx flinched back.

"Alright, I'm going to have to ask you to leave now, dear. She's in no state to talk to you..." The nurse ushered him out while he was still processing what his mother had said. He felt sick when it finally sunk in.

"Let's go," He said quietly. "I don't want to be here anymore." Lisa and Tim exchanged a worried, knowing glance and nodded.

"Alright, let's go." Lisa said, trying to be cheerful. They left the room while the nurse was still calming Susan down. Her voice followed them into the hallway. "Five days, dear friends, five days... Run while you can,"

Despite the screen, Tamara had heard what Susan had said about the thirteen eyes. She wondered if what her parents had told her was true. When Marx had been unconscious on the living room couch, they had told her a story about a monster in a pit and a Rift in the Earth. The didn't believe any of it, but what Susan had been saying was disturbingly similar. She shook the thought from her mind.

No way my best friend has anything to do with that story. It's just a story, after all. Not reality. Some part of her did believe it, though. Somewhere deep in her mind, she believed it to be true, and that made her squirm with guilt and confusion.

Tamara sighed on the car ride home and wished everything could be back to normal. She wasn't the only one who wished that.