Mark's mother was a machine. She had three things she excelled at: working nine to five, working overtime, and working to take care of him. Every single day from childhood to adulthood, his mother had toiled endlessly to support their family of two. She had no complaints, though. Not even when her own body gave out.

In the hospital where she slept, Mark closed his eyes and tried to think of happier times. When his mother was no longer bound to a bed, and the sounds of the heart monitor did not occupy each hour he was off work. When he had the luxury to stay at home, playing games and reading books, with no cares for the world except for the occasional exam.

Always running from my problems, Mark thought as he stared into the window glass. He had noticed her health slowly dwindling but had always ignored it in favor of losing himself in fantasy worlds. Now, only regret remained.

The bags under his eyes, a now permanent feature of his, no longer bothered him compared to the many things he had to worry about. Like the throbbing in the side of his head. He brought his hand up to his temple and rubbed it, before a small shuffling noise alerted him to his mother's bed.

The blankets had moved a little. Excited, Mark rushed to squeeze her hand. Although her response hadn't changed from the last few times he came to visit - fingers twitching slightly - it let him know she was still in there. Caged by the limits of her body. It gave him the strength to continue onwards, and he pushed himself to his feet.

A knock rang from the door, behind the curtains. "Good morning, Mark," a voice said. Familiar. Calm. "Can I come in?"

It was Doctor Phillips, here for an early checkup. "Sure thing," Mark said. "How's her condition?"

The man walked inside and sat down with a clipboard in hand. "Good news. She remains stable and even seems to be improving when you're around." He flipped through the papers. "Progress is good. Keep it up, and I think we could be looking to transfer her into a long-term care unit soon."

"Really? That's great news, doctor." Mark's mood improved immensely. Long-term care units were less expensive, meaning he could work fewer jobs afterwards to support his mother. He'd also be able to afford more luxuries than ever before. Maybe even a book or a game, he thought. Less time working delivery, more time to relax.

"Just remember to take care of your own health too," Doctor Phillips stressed. "Don't burn yourself out working too hard."

Mark's eyes flickered to his mother briefly before he returned a smile. "Don't worry, my work schedule is pretty stable. And I've been getting more sleep than before." He checked his watch. "I've got to go now, though. Work is starting in an hour and a half."

Doctor Phillips nodded and stood up to leave. "Good luck, Mark. I'll be seeing you next week."

Mark took one last look at his mother before walking into the nearest restroom to change into retail clothes. Then he washed his face, staring at the bags under his eyes and wincing at his apparent exhaustion.

I really do need more sleep. Management won't like this. He turned off the faucet and walked out the hospital, greeting its workers along the way.

As soon as he opened his car door, he slipped inside and closed his eyes. Mark took a few deep breaths and looked at his reflection in the rear-view mirror.

"I'm fine," he said. His eye bags were incredibly obvious to anyone who looked at his face, and his expression was still exhausted. Management had warned him to not let this show, but Mark was not in the mood to care. "So be it," he muttered.

Today, Mark had spent too much time with his mother. If he chose to apply makeup to cover his eye bags, he risked being late to work. And that presented a much greater chance of being terminated than having a worse appearance.

"Should I do it while driving?"

Mark looked at his makeup kit in the glove box and let the box slam shut with a click. Not today, he thought. No more danger. Keeping his reputation high with his manager was no longer as necessary as before, meaning he could place more emphasis on his own safety.

---

Mark cursed at the rows of cars blocking his path. One swung into his lane from the right and forced him to slam the brakes. Another crept up from the side, blocking his attempt at a left lane change. 

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Frustrated, Mark drove over the line, trying to force the other car to give way. It refused. He had to back off, watching as it rapidly accelerated into the distance and disappeared.

Mark bit his tongue. So close, he thought. I suppose I'll have to start skipping meals again. Losing one of his three jobs wasn't the death sentence like it had been before. It would put a dent in his savings, but he'd survive.

A gap in traffic finally allowed him to make a lane change two turns later than usual. Inevitably, he would be a few minutes late. Too long for him to sneak by his manager and into the crowd of fellow employees during their daily stand-ups. With a long sigh, Mark continued into their parking lot, stopped the engine, and stepped out.

A wave of fatigue hit him the moment his feet hit the floor. His eyes forced themselves shut, and he had to lean against his car's frame for support. Taking a few deep breaths, all Mark wanted to do was get inside and drive back home, but he might as well continue to work the entire shift.

"Are you okay, Mark?" a soft voice said from behind him. Sarah, a newcomer. Her job was to help greet customers and check off their receipts. Today looked to be a slower day, since the entrance was almost empty. Their only security guard, a man in his late forties, was currently sleeping at the front of the store.

"Yeah, I just needed a moment to rest. Morning Sarah." Mark forced a smile onto his face and let his legs carry him forward. Each step took away the queasiness, bit by bit. He waved to the guard, expecting a usual response back, but the man only yawned and closed his eyes again.

Mark went straight for the manager's office to clock in and take his daily assignments. He knocked and stood to the side as the doorknob turned and Jack approached with a scowl. "Where have you been? You should've been here much earlier!"

"Doing something important," Mark said. "Sorry."

"Bad excuse." The man looked him over before scowling. "What could I have you do..."

Matthew, one of the coworkers Mark regularly spoke to, quickly approached from the side. He left behind a half-empty cart stocked with many goods. "I could use some help stocking inventory," he said to Jack.

Their manager nodded. "Quickly, then. Get to it!" As Mark left with Matthew, the man cursed under his breath, "You're lucky I even let you work two jobs. What a shameful performance." The man returned to his office and disappeared.

Mark's racing heart calmed down after leaving the situation. He could still earn some money for the day and not waste his time driving here. "Thank you Matt," he whispered.

"No problem man," Matthew said. "But you might want to think about your situation. You know Jack doesn't like you much, so..." he trailed off.

There was a very real possibility he wouldn't be returning to the store after today. All Mark could do was sigh and accept his fate. He let the world slip by him as he drowned himself in work.

---

Mark finished putting the last batch of groceries in place and started to mop up the floor. He noticed Jack coming from the corner of his eye and sighed once again.

"Goodbye, Mark," Matthew said. They had a final moment of silence together before the disaster arrived.

Jack walked up to Matthew and said, "Good work" to him, clearly ignoring Mark's own hard work. He turned to Mark and shook his head disapprovingly. "And you? No need to come back tomorrow."

Matthew opened his mouth to protest, but Mark met his eyes. With a small nod, his coworker gave him a small salute and stepped away.

"Where's my paycheck?" Mark asked. Jack was already hurrying away.

"It will come later," his manager said, not even sparing him a second glance.

Mark shook his head and followed him to his office. Now that things had come to this, he was much more willing to burn bridges. "I'm not leaving until I get that check," he said.

Jack scowled at him. "What's wrong with you?" The man picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He wanted to move past Mark to leave through the door, but then came to a stop once he saw Matthew, Sarah, and another coworker standing at the entrance.

"Fine! Get out of my sight," he cursed and shoved a paycheck into Mark's hands. A fake smile returned to his face as he prepared to greet the other three people.

Pocketing the check, Mark waved his last goodbyes to his coworkers, and left the store with a small smile. He entered his car and drove back home in silence.

---

Mark woke up from his hour-long nap and looked at his phone. There were still a few more hours before midnight for him to earn extra cash from delivery driving. He hurried over to his fridge, a mini-fridge, and pulled it open. Good, he thought in relief. One water bottle remained. He gulped it down and prepared to leave, when the sky caused him to freeze.

A ghastly whiteness emerged from the horizon and split the world into two. Spikes of color jutted out from both sides of this whiteness, covering the sky. Somehow, Mark thought it all looked like a spine.

A shimmering rainbow light fell from between the gaps, through the last spots of darkness remaining in the sky. Mark saw it for only a moment before his body froze up. Something had gripped his body tightly and prevented him from breathing. With eyes wide open, he strained himself to move, but there was nothing he could do.

The rainbow light returned. It appeared much closer than before, and Mark watched its size increase with every passing second. His eyes widened to the max. From the trajectory of its travel, the light looked like it was headed straight for him.

Sweat flowed down Mark's forehead as his struggles increased. He wanted to get away, to move even an inch. But the force continued to hold him down.

As Mark began to fall unconscious, his fingers moved ever so slightly before the rainbow light rammed straight into his forehead. The last thoughts in his mind were of his mother and her safety.