Socially awkward, bottom of the class, worthless daughter.
That's the trio of tags that sum up Maria best in the Book of Urban Legends.
On the friend front? She's got zilch—except for this one so-called pal, Lily, who's really just using her as a foil, a total fake friend.
School life's a drag too. Most days, she's flying solo, popping in earbuds to fake being busy, losing herself in tunes.
And the worst? This jerk named Mark and his pack of dirtbags—they're straight-up gunning for her, no subtlety.
At home? She's got a doormat mom and a bulldozer dad who never cut her any slack.
It all cranks up her insecurity and lack of confidence, turning her extra sensitive and timid. Even when the bullying hits, she bottles it up—can't spill.
But hey, she's blood, so the folks still got some love buried in there.
Even plastic Lily's thrown her a bone now and then.
Maria clings to those scraps of affection and warmth like a lifeline, just trying to keep it together.
But she's walking a tightrope, one wrong step from the edge. One or two more hits, and she'd tumble into the abyss.
And the tipping point? That lookalike spirit—Ellen.
Barry stared at the Book of Urban Legends, flipping to the new page's scene.
Under dim lights, Maria's decked out in a cute dance dress, staring at the mirror with this defeated look.
The reflection shows her face twisted in pain and humiliation, mid-sob. But right next to that scared, weepy mug? A wild, icy-cold one.
The two faces in the mirror are starting to blend, like a handover of who's driving the body.
Snap!
Barry slammed the book shut.
The straw patterns on the diary faded fast, snapping back to plain old "Barry's Journal."
This book drops first on 101kan.com—clean chapters, no mix-ups, just straight-up good reading.
Flipping it open again, that original sparse log of observations had beefed up with a bunch of updates.
...
—20XX, January 22nd.
Three days since that random street run-in.
Now? I'm crashing at Maria's place.
Every school day, she drags out with a long face, storms back pissed.
From watching her, Maria's the type who soaks up crap from the world and just swallows it—she's got this crazy tolerance for BS.
At home, her go-to moves are usually—
Head home and stew, light up a smoke to chill.
Or rage out on nothing, take it to the teddy bear.
As a quiet fly on the wall, I've read a whole novel off that timid face of hers.
But what you see ain't always the full story. I wanna hear it from her.
Plus.
This twin thing—sister or mini-me? Why the hell's she still hanging around? I'm dying to know.
Maria: I just wanna be normal, not get picked on. Get pretty, make real friends. God, I wish my parents gave a damn, hyped me up more.
Ellen: I wanna be a normal human so bad.
...
Hiss!
Barry finished reading and just... went quiet. No words, like a punch to the gut.
"Here in America, being 'normal'—is that some kinda heavy-ass dream now?"
But putting himself in her shoes, Barry got it a little more.
Think about it: one tiny fertilized egg, multiplying and splitting, grinding through months of development to pop out a healthy kid—no birth defects, no genetic crap.
From that first breath? It's already smoked billions of rivals.
If you grow up with solid family love, no money worries dragging you down, a couple buddies, staying healthy and happy?
That "ordinary" ride? Straight miracle territory.
Don't take what you've got for granted.
Poor or rich, weak or strong, dead or alive.
Hell, maybe a ton of it's locked in from the jump, the second you're born.
But busting your ass later? That lets you catch up, flip the script, smash limits, build the future you want.
Damn straight! That's the fire that got me through my comeback win!
Craving the good stuff? It's wired into us.
Right then, it clicked for Barry.
He got where Maria and Ellen were coming from, what they were chasing.
Fire up the old brainpower, and he could nail this easy.
Perched cross-legged on top of her dresser, Barry peered down at the bed below, mulling it over. A plan sparked in his head.
Nighttime.
Dinner done, shower taken, another day survived—Maria flopped onto her cozy bed.
Today? Lady Luck smiled a bit—no run-in with that asshole Mark. Mood was a smidge brighter than usual.
Old habit: reach for the stuffed bear.
But her hand swished through empty air at the usual spot.
What the—?
Maria rolled over, arm flailing—still nada.
Where's my bear?!
She bolted up, eyes wide, scouring the room for where she might've brain-farted it into a corner.
Once, twice.
No doubt.
She'd torn the place apart—even shone her phone flashlight under the bed, where it sure as hell wouldn't fit.
"No! No!"
"Where the heck is it?"
Maria freaked, dashed out and pounded on her parents' door.
"Mom, did you go in my room? Take my teddy bear?"
"Honey, nope. You lose something?"
"My—my bear's gone!" Maria's voice cracked. Sure, she whacked it plenty, but that didn't mean squat about how much she loved the thing.
"Maria, it's late—tomorrow I'll help hunt it down."
"If it's really MIA, I'll grab you a new one, promise!"
Her mom soothed her, all gentle.
"Okay, bedtime now. You're almost eighteen—crying over a toy? Come on." Dad Dan Brennan scowled, shooing her off to crash.
Mom clammed up, just watching Maria shuffle away.
Slam!
Door shut.
Maria slunk back to bed, curling into a ball.
Guess today was cursed after all.
Better to get pranked and shoved around than lose her bear to "good luck."
Dad got it for her high school birthday—she'd babied it ever since.
Wah! Tears hit the floodgates.
They streamed down, carving tracks on her pretty face.
Soft sobs bounced around the bedroom.
From the shadows, Barry shook his head, speechless.
Shoulda seen this coming.
Bear's toast—you picked it.
Not a shred of guilt from Barry. He'd holed up inside that thing once, taken a hundred punches—knew its suffering inside out.
He was just putting the poor guy out of his misery.
All this? For Maria's own good. Sometimes you gotta cut losses!
Bet the bear's ghost was kicking back in bear heaven.
Barry watched her cry it out till she wore down, body going slack as she dozed off.
He moved like a ghost, unzipped her backpack, fished out the headphones, and slapped a note on 'em.
"You wanna know the meaning of life?"