“Marco, go to bed. I promise, It’s nothing.”

“You never believe me!” He shouted, throwing his hands into the air. “Why do you assume all I do is lie?”

“Because that’s what you do, Marco! You tell these ridiculous lies that will get you absolutely nowhere. It’s hard to believe someone when they have the word ‘Liar’ written across their forehead!”

Marco was becoming desperate. “I’m not lying, mom. I saw it. There was something in here. It was over there,” Marco pointed to the far corner of his room, “watching. It had yellow eyes-”

“I’m done!” His mother shouted, stomping her foot on the wooden floor. “You’ve crossed a line, Marco. You’re fourteen years old, not some toddler who is seeing things in the dark. Stop waking me up in the middle of the night for this crap you’re trying to sell.”

And with that, she slammed the door behind her as she left, her blonde hair catching the light from the chandelier in the hall.

“It’s not nothing.” Marco whispered to himself. “It has never been nothing.” He slid off his house shoes and tucked himself into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. His eyes frantically searched the room, for a shadow, movement, a mysterious shape in the dark.

Marco searched until his eyes burned. Sleep fell upon him and he happily drifted off, but he had too much adrenalin running through him to allow deep sleep. He stayed in a state of consciousness for a while, resting, but aware of his surroundings. Aware of the man in the corner, cloaked in darkness, watching with those big, yellow eyes. Never blinking. Never moving. Just watching.

This happened every night. Marco hasn’t slept soundly for weeks, because he’s always there. The man is always in the same corner, watching. Marco suspects he’s plotting something. Maybe to possess him, maybe to murder him. He didn’t know. He just knew it wasn’t something particularly pleasant.

By the second week, Marco had told his mother of the man only a few times, wanting to avoid more fights and screaming matches. His claims never were believed; he was only ridiculed for his “horrible imagination and inability to lie believably.” Every time he called his mother into his room, the man disappeared with a rush of wind as if he had never been there. Never stood in the corner, watching Marco as he slept.

One Wednesday night of the third week, the man spoke for the first time.”Vigilance,” He hissed, his low voice sounding like that of a snake. “Vigilance.”

Marco shot up in his bed, breathing heavily. He thought the voice had been a part of a dream, but was obviously mistaken when he heard the voice again. “Vigilance.”

“Vigilance? Why? What do you mean?”

After this, the man refused to speak. Marco’s anger rose, he jumped out of bed and threw on his robe, mustering enough daring to walk a few feet toward the corner. “Speak to me! What do you mean?”

Marco’s bedroom door burst open, revealing his mother, her hair ratty from sleep, dark circles shading her under-eye area. “What is all of this yelling about?” She screamed, slapping him across the face. His index and middle fingers rubbed the spot where her hand made contact.

“The man, he was...was…”

“That’s it.” She said in an alarmingly calm voice. Her eyes were downcast, staring at the glass of water that had spilled on Marco’s bed side table when the door has burst open. “There’s no other way. You won’t stop. I have to. It’s the only way to teach you. Yes, done like that it would be rather simple. But what about the details? Could be easy…”

“M-mom? What are you talking about?”

She looked up with a start, almost looking alarmed, like she had forgotten Marco was in the room. “I’m trying to decide what’s best for you, dear. Obviously something’s wrong with you. The endless counseling sessions haven’t helped. The therapy hasn’t made a dent in that sick mind of yours. I have only one choice.”

“Mom, you’re really scaring me. What’s going on? What are you thinking about?”

She gave a small smile, almost like she was sorry for him. “Not to worry, boy. You’ll be better soon. You’ll stop telling these lies. My plan is foolproof.”

She walked out of Marco’s bedroom door before he could reach her. A small click sounded on the other side, somewhere in the hall. “Fine!” He screamed, beating his fists on the door. “It’s not like you’ve never locked me in this room before.”

The dim light from the streetlamp came in streaks through his bedroom window, scattering small rays across his walls. The corner across from him remained dark though, once again occupied by the mysterious man with the yellow eyes.

“Vigilance.”

“Shut the heck up!” Marco screamed. “I don’t know what you mean, and I really don’t care. Leave me alone!”  He pulled a pillow off of the bed behind him and chucked it into the corner, never hearing it make impact. His aim had been true, but the pillow had simply vanished once it hit. “I’m tired of you being weird and watching me sleep!”

“Vigilance.”

“Let me out of here!” Marco beat on the door, but flinched and pulled his hands away quickly. He sucked on the side of his blistered hand. “What the..”

He carefully tapped the door handle with his finger and yelped. The metal was scorching hot. Instantly Marco recalled the fire safety signs he had learned in kindergarten. “Hot door handle.  Smoke in the air…”

Marco hadn’t noticed it until then, but his room was covered in a sort of grey haze. The light from outside seemed dimmer. His lungs felt dry.”Help! Help!” He screamed, beating on his door again, ignoring the burning in his skin. “Help me!”

“Vigilance.” The figure whispered again.

“Shut up! Help me out of here!” Marco ran to his window and tried to get it open, but it looked like it had been sealed shut days ago, maybe even weeks. That explained why Marco’s mother hadn’t let him open his window at night. She said the AC was on, but the large amount of sweat on his neck had told him otherwise.

The smoke had begun to be overwhelming, seeping under his door in large amounts. Marco made a desperate attempt to throw his desk chair at his window to break it, but it bounced harmlessly off of the glass.

“What are the chances?” He screamed, continuing to beat on the walls, the window, the door. He was sobbing now, wasting precious air he knew he needed, but he couldn’t stop. No matter what he did tears fell from his eyes and smoke choked his lungs. He dropped to his knees, hands grasping at his throat.

He crawled over to the window and using his remaining strength, lifted himself slightly off the ground to permit a look outside.

He must have been hallucinating due to lack of air; there was no way what he was seeing was real. His mother was standing in the yard, smiling her pretty smile, giving a sweet wave. She waved until Marco’s eyesight left and the smoke and flame took over.