“Oh you poor dear.” It was the first thing Morgan had ever heard from Grace as she extended her weathered hand towards him. He stood staring at the aged woman and gave her a weak smile. Normally he would have been offended at this outstretched hand.

Weakness.

It was a feeling he hated and yet he felt compelled to grab her hand and she led him to the nearest seat speaking to him about the weather and minor things like he was a grandson. Completely ignoring his limp and before he could even order she was gone.

Morgan looked around the Grotto taking note of a handful of familiar faces from school as well as a few of the townsfolk. The seat was hard but in a good way that supported his lower back. As he felt himself slightly relaxing it was like she reappeared out of nowhere with a mug in her hand.

“Here is a special drink honey.”

Morgan took a small sip of it. It was heavenly. It was sweet, warm, and milky. He had expected coffee but whatever this was it great. Within seconds he could feel a great soothing feeling running down his spine making his eyes widen in shock.

“I made yours of stronger stuff.”

His eyes locked onto her wrinkled face as her piercing, yet kind eyes looked over his face. He felt at a loss of words as his eyes quickly glanced down to see the glass was already empty. When had he downed the rest of it?

[color=03ddfb]“Thank you ma'am”[/color] He spoke weakly still confused as Grace refilled his drink.

The red headed young man would be a liar if he said he did not miss Grace. Somehow despite having multiple customers she somehow made time to talk to everyone and she remembered everything. She felt like grandmother to him.

Morgan shook the pill bottle as his eyes scanned it. It had been weeks since he had taken one. The idea to sell them had briefly crossed his mind as high grade painkillers were worth money in the right hands, but he tossed it aside. Choosing to keep them as a reminder. Whatever ingredients were in Graces drinks were nothing short of a miracle. He had chosen to continue walking with a limp even if he had noticed Grace laughing at him faking it, but she seemed to understand and never said anything.

It made his mind travel to the strange experience he had about a week ago. He had been home and had locked himself in his room ignoring the banging on the door of his old man. He was drunk again and angry. Throwing out obscenities and blaming Morgan for his own failures. Eventually the noise had gone away and after a few hours Morgan left the room to go out to the dark living room to find his father passed out in his recliner reeking of booze. A frown crossed his face when all of a sudden, the air around him grew heavy and extremely humid.

It felt like Morgan's legs were threatening to give out under the strange pressure like a giant hand was attempting to crush him. Strange whispers began to assault his ears and when he felt he could stand it no longer a sudden light source chased away the darkness.The pressure and presence had lessened but came back with overwhelming force almost like it was trying to kill him but the light that had started at his hands quickly engulfed him and whatever it was fled.

The light was so pure. So comforting, it had felt like he was floating away. Even after the danger had left he didn't want to leave. Something was calling him. He could feel his consciousness slipping. His eyes had begun to see nothingness despite being wide open. It was only a sudden loud snore that had caused his glazed blue eyes to focus on the slumped figure in front of him and by extension see a family picture of his mother and father holding him.

[color=03ddfb]“I.... Morgan.....I....am.....Morgan.....I am Morgan Watkins.”[/color]

No longer feeling himself floating away but now anchored the light slowly receded leaving a collapsed and sobbing Morgan. The euphoria of the light had been so intense all of his worries, pain, and existence had faded in that brief time but he knew he couldn't leave yet.

“Mr. Morgan.”

The young man jerked with a start  leaving his thoughts as he looked up seeing the familiar face of the librarian looking down at him.

[color=03ddfb]“Ms. Winters”[/color]

Morgan huffed out gathering his thoughts.

“People are beginning to assemble for that flyer you have been eyeballing.”

Her tone sounded slightly judgemental but her expression looked netrual. Morgan nodded as he slowly stood up and began to limp towards Study room C leaving his little office. He could already see two people here. He was hoping for some answers as he limped across the threshold and flashed his best brightest smile.

[color=03ddfb]“Gentlemen!”[/color]