It felt like an eternity.

Normally, when sleeping, you're not aware of time passing. Normally you might be too preoccupied with dreams to even notice. Even if you aren't, you don't really have a sense of time while asleep.

I wasn't dreaming right now. Of that I was sure.

Nor was I unconscious. Or rather, I wasn't unconscious, but I don't think I was conscious either. My mind was clear. I even felt more lucid than awake, as sleep-deprived as I usually am. Despite that, everything was just black.

I was aware of the time passing. How much of that time, however, I didn't have the faintest clue about. The seconds had quickly grown into minutes which grew into hours which might have grown into days — or weeks for all I knew. After a while, I'd lost all sense of time so what probably wasn't more than a few minutes felt like hours. That's what being stuck in a pitch-black void without being able to move does to you. Who would have known?

I was sure all of this was in my head. The last thing I remembered was fainting, so even if I wasn't dreaming per se, I had to be in some kind of dream-like state. Was I in a coma?

It was a weird feeling. Almost like my brain had shut itself down, but had forgotten include me — the actual conscious part. Is that what happened? After all, isn't unconsciousness just your brain turning itself off to recuperate? Or some lie it, at least?

I felt like I should have learned something these things in school — but I was drawing a blank slate. I was having a problem recalling what I'd learned about the subject in school. A fat lot of good all that studying got me. Even after I managed to get help from—

Jennifer.

That's right. What's important right now isn't school or what the hell all of this is. There are other matters to think about.

Jennifer Burch.

Jen.

My one and only friend for these past weeks.

She...

She wasn't real...was she?

I don't know how I missed something that obvious. For almost a whole year — the whole time she's been in my class.

For crying out loud — She never even once talked to the other students or teachers. And they never spoke about her. Why didn't I feel like that was weird? What, being a loner meant people ignored her existence? The warning signs were all there.

She was a straight-A student who never got asked to answer any questions from any of the teachers. Just that fact alone should have rung the alarm bells in my head.

When the teachers handed out test results, they never gave her the papers. She always picked them up herself from the teacher's desk. And people always looked at us oddly when we walked home together. Or, I guess they were only looking at me.

There were so many small signs that I just overlooked. Some of it was understandable to some degree. After all, how often do you care about these smalled details about people? It's not as if the norm is for your friends to turn out to be...whatever she is. But still, going almost a whole year without realizing that nobody else could see her...

At least she had the decency to pick empty shops we were out together, so I didn't have to embarrass myself in front of a large mass of people by spending time talking with a platter of food.

But that begs the question.

Why did she want us to eat in empty places? Did she know that I was the only one that could see her? Seems like it. If so, how did that work?

Was she a ghost? I know that I've felt her physically a bunch of times, and ghosts aren't meant to be tangible as far as I know. I'm not an expert in the subject though.

Could she interact with anything else but me? I saw her pick up things and eat food all the time. But surely other people would have noticed if things just floated about magically? Was it all in my head? Did I leave all those food places with a bunch of untouched food left?

There weren't too many possibilities. Either she was a ghost, or...I didn't want to consider the other possibility right now.

My thoughts started wondering. Not to anything specific. To school. homework. My schedule. My family. The news. Superheroes. Anything that wasn't Jen.

Without me realizing it, the black around my had shifted. I still didn't know how much time that had passed, but it felt like quite a bit. The black space still surrounded me, but sparks of light had started blazing up here and there. Vague voices echoed throughout the void, background noise that I couldn't quite pick up on.

The sudden activity jolted my thoughts. Involuntarily, my mind went back to Jen. As my surrounding grew brighter with every passing second, a sense of dread spread throughout my phantom-limbs. The possibility I didn't want to think about.

As I understood that I was in the process of waking up, one last question passed through my head.

I wasn't crazy, was I?

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Eleanor sat in her office examining some of the 'notes' she'd taken during her session earlier that week. She wore a troubled expression on her face as she thought over her actions. It was a delicate situation and what she'd done had been very precarious. Her actions would undoubtedly lead to more pain for the boy. But she genuinely believed that — in the long term — this was what was best for him.

She still felt guilty about it, however. No matter which perspective you looked at it from, what she had done had been cruel.

As her guilty feelings simmered, she was pulled out of her contemplation by the sound of the door opening and closing downstairs.

She immediately got up began leaving her office.

There was only one person who it could be, but he had never come here outside of the scheduled times before.

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Her heart filled with apprehension, she walked down the stairs in her house.

It was, by all means, a simple house. Almost spartan in how plain it was. Except for the living room where she had her sessions, there was barely any furniture or ornaments present. Some might find it hard to believe someone lived here full-time. Disregarding her patient and herself, there weren't many people that visited her house except for the cleaner.

But all of that was how she preferred it. She'd always had a mindset of 'less is more' — and her abode exhibited this fact wantonly.

As she descended the stairs she stopped before the living room. Taking a deep breath to alleviate her worried heart, she took a steadfast step into the room.

As expected, Richard sat there in the armchair. He had an almost crazed look on his face. Stamping his feet rhythmically, his look darted all over the room. His expression calmed down and traces of a relieved smile formed at the edges of his mouth when he saw her.

"Rick." She said as she moved towards the couch opposite him and sat down with her legs crossed. "I was not expecting you here today. Our next session is still a few days away, is it not?"

Her gaze didn't steer away from him, calmly evaluating his face and reactions.

"I know. I...I just had to talk to someone." He said. "I feel like everything is falling apart around me — you're the only one I know that I can talk with about this."

Her evaluating gaze hadn't left his face since she first entered the room. It was clear that he was tired and — despite what he said — she could tell that he felt reluctant about speaking about whatever bothered him. Even with her.

"You are always welcome here, Richard. If something is bothering you, I will always be here for you to talk with." She spoke in as calming a manner as she could. It was vital to be conscientious in situations like these. "But what about your parents? I am certain they would listen and help you no matter the circumstances."

Rick looked away from her gaze. "I don't...I can't bother them with this. They have enough to worry about as it is — with me going to the hospital and all."

She wasn't at all surprised by his refusal to speak with his parents. After all, his apprehension about being honest regarding his feelings to them was one of the topics they often discussed during their sessions. Nonetheless, it was important to remind him that his parents supported him if they were to remove his stigma about opening up to them.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was the latter part of his statement.

"You were in the hospital?! What happened? are you alright?!" The calm expression on her face instantly vanished.

Startled by her outburst, Rick looked back at her with apologetic eyes. "Sorry, maybe I should have led with that." He said. "I fainted yesterday afternoon and spent the night at the Springhill General hospital. But according to them, I'm completely fine. They think it was just the stress of almost being in a traffic accident."

"They recommended that I stay home from school today at least, though. My parents were worried out of their minds all night. They basically forced me to stay in the house. I actually sneaked out to go here..."

Eleanor shook her head. "You could have told them you were visiting me. I am sure they would have allowed you to leave. More importantly—"

She looked him over closely.

'Traffic incident'?

He didn't appear to have any injuries, at the very least. But he did look stressed. Very much so.

"Richard, just what happened? Knowing you, you told your parents that you were fine. I doubt your parents fell for it, and I certainly will not. Please, Richard, tell me everything. I'll listen."

He had his doubts — she could tell. Anything regarding his parents was a touchy subject. But he had come here, so she had to believe that he was willing to tell her something.

He stayed quiet for well over a minute, presumably trying to gather enough courage to speak about whatever it was that had happened. She already had her suspicions.

Finally, he opened his mouth and let out a sigh. "You might not believe me. I might even be crazy."

She bent forward to pick up her notebook from the table, before realizing it was still in her office upstairs. While she could make do without it, it made her somewhat uncomfortable. But now wasn't the time to take a short pause for such a trivial issue. With movements that were only slightly awkward, she straightened out the creases on her black one-piece dress and turned her eyes back to Rick.

"I do not believe you would have chosen to come here if you did not believe I would hear you out. You don't have to be afraid." She said.

Rick sighed again, before going quiet for some time once more. Them, he told her everything.

He recounted how he had first approached Jennifer Burch, which they had discussed during an earlier session. He told her how Jennifer had helped him with his studies and how they spent time together after school. He told her of the incident with Gold Rock and the black monster, which had heart rate rise for a moment. And then he told her about the accident. Of the ball which had passed through Jennifer. Of the pain that he felt in his head. Of how he had nearly died from that truck.

And of how Jennifer had died.

When he'd finished telling her everything his arms and legs were shaking. His voice quivered and one didn't need a Ph.D. in psychology to understand how he was feeling.

"Eleanor, am I crazy?" His eyes were bloodshot from all the stress all of this suddenly imparted on him, and his clenched fists were pale-white.

She didn't know what to say.

Jen had died?

This was worse than she thought. Far worse. She never anticipated something like this happening. The consequences this might have...

Rick shifted in his chair after she had stayed quiet for a full minute.

After deliberating it over and over again in her thoughts, she finally reached a decision. Removing her glasses, she bent forward over the small table and gently took hold of his hands. She looked into his eyes.

"Richard. We live in a world where physics-defying and supernatural events are the norm for many people. Chiefly those who have superpowers of some kind. However, it isn't unprecedented for these events to bleed over and affect normal people outside of the bounds of being a casualty of a superpowered conflict."

"I can think of several possible scenarios to explain what happened to you. Ghosts are of course the most obvious one. But then we also have memory-altering, time-erasure, dimension-hopping, or even just plain invisibility. All of these examples are absurd and implausible, but I believe they are at the very least feasible — when compared to the alternative."

"The human mind is my specialty Richard," She continued, pressing his palms. "And believe me when I tell you this. You are completely sane. The possibility of Jennifer being nothing but a fragment of your imagination is slim enough that it isn't worth mentioning. For a normal human brain, it would be almost impossible to consistently maintain such a realistic hallucination for this long without any other symptoms or many glaring flaws."

"From what you have told me it also seems like Jennifer was aware that you were the only one that perceived her. Hallucinations are not self-aware, Richard. They might seem like they are at times, but that illusion always crumbles under scrutiny."

Rick sat still the entire time she was speaking, not uttering a single word. Now he stared at her.

"Richard. Do you trust me?" She asked.

He was silent for a while, before nodding his head. "Yes. I trust you."

"Good. Then believe me when I tell you; Jennifer was not just an illusion." Eleanor said and let out a relaxed sigh, releasing his hands.

"I think you should head back home for now. Try not to think about this matter too much in the coming days. We will not be able to get any answers immediately, and it better to not tire yourself out over it unnecessarily." She leaned back on the couch. "I am leaving for a very important business trip today and will be gone for a couple of weeks. When I get back, I promise you that we will get to the bottom of this — together. Until then, however, I ask that you spend your time as normal. And do not do anything rash." She looked him deep in the eyes. "Can you promise me that?"

He looked uneasy when she mentioned that she would be gone for some time, but quietly nodded his head at her question.

"I won't." He said. Then he rose from his chair and started walking towards the entrance. He looked better than when he first arrived, but she couldn't help but worry about him still.

She stood from the couch and went up to him next to the door. "Richard, I am not making an empty promise here. I will do everything in my power to help you through this. Remember that."

"Thank you, I will." He said and opened the door. "Then I guess I'll see you in a couple of weeks?"

"Yes, you will."

He waved his hand. "Bye."

"Goodbye, Rick. Have a good evening." She said and waved back.

And then he left, closing the door behind him.

The house suddenly felt empty. She stood still and stared at the door for several minutes before finally walking back into the living room to lay down on the couch. She didn't want to mislead him like that. But she didn't have much of a choice. He couldn't handle the truth in that state. The fact that he so easily accepted what she said without questioning it showed that much.

Feeling an impending headache on its way — god knows how that worked — she rubbed her temples and let out an exasperated sigh. It seemed like she had to find some old acquaintances.

What she was about to do now would have been so much easier if only she could use a phone...