Marcus would have to come up with a convincing lie, but first he would have to sneak into the house and slip into his bedroom without his parents noticing him.

The No.60 bus stopped a block away from his house, and gathering all his remaining strength, stood up and wobbled to the door of the bus, drawing concerned looks from those passengers, who had decided to ignore him. Did he really look that bad?

His footsteps echoed across the deserted streets of the neighborhood he lived in. It was a nice, quiet place for upper-middle class families; the size and design of the houses that lined the streets were as unique as the families that inhabited them.

Marcus arrived at the main gate that led to his house, one of the largest in the block, but for the first time in many years it looked unfamiliar, like he was a trespasser. But why did he feel that way? Was it because he was trying to sneak past his parents, who he loved very much? That he would have to lie to them about his injuries? There was nothing more he wanted than to run into his mother’s arms, desperately seeking some human warmth after what he had been through. But Marcus didn’t want to put his mother into a situation that would emotionally harm her.

As he turned the block to search for the gate that lead to the garden, he swore that someday he would get back at those thugs for what they did to him, that he would get back at Mr. Aker, who, if hadn’t been for him, Marcus day wouldn’t have turned so crappy and he wouldn’t have made the mistake of seeking some release in some forgotten arcade.

The gate to the garden creaked, and Marcus’ heart jumped to his throat at the thought that someone inside the house heard him, but nothing happened. And from where he was standing, it could be that they were sleeping. After all it was past eleven-o-clock, so it was only logical that they would already be in bed.

With the utmost caution, Marcus opened the backdoor which lead to the laundry room as silently as he could. Then he tip-toed all the way to the second floor, walking past his parent’s bedroom, whose door was ajar. There was light inside and he stopped to peek inside their bedroom. Both were already in bed, his mother was sitting on the bed holding a book, like she was expecting him to come home, then a question popped into his head. Weren’t they worried he wasn’t home? Did they try to call him on his cellphone? What happened to him back at the arcade?

Marcus closed the door of his bedroom as quietly as possible, then placed his schoolbag on the floor and threw his blazer on the floor. A blunt thud came from it. The marble! He thought. Marcus had forgotten all about it.

Marcus examined the black marble. It wasn’t broken, but as he examined his reflection, distorted across the smooth surface, he wondered why he had taken it. Somebody obviously hid it there for a reason.

Under the golden light of his desk lamp, there was nothing unusual about the marble. A toy left behind by some child that came across a hidden drawer in that library. Anyway, he wouldn’t be able to take it back to the library, as it was deep inside that gang’s territory.

Marcus set the marble on the tabletop, and without warming, he sneezed. He covered his mouth and nose in hope that his sneeze wouldn’t wake up his parents, but nobody called out to him. However, something even more interesting had happened. Drops of blood, expelled through his nose, splashed on the black marble, which began to shake in its place.

As if that wasn’t strange enough, as it shook, the small marble became the size of a baseball before it stopped shaking altogether, but it didn’t move from its place. Something kept it there, and Marcus didn’t dare to touch it. Was he hallucinating? He had lost so much blood, that he was hallucinating.

Once the marble reached its maximum size, it began to fold on itself, chattering sounds echoed in Marcus’ room until the marble disappeared, almost like it had never existed in the first place. However, it left something in its place, a small object that glittered under the golden light of his desk lamp.

Marcus’ cautiously stepped closer to examine the object, and was startled at what the marble had left behind.

It was a ring. A ring made of silver with a red jewel encrusted on its head.