[center][h1][color=ed1c24][b]Marcus Ainsworth[/b][/color][/h1][/center]
A heavy sigh left the lips of the disheveled looking young man as he stepped off the train, onto the all too familiar train platform of his home neighbourhood. It had been a couple of years since Marcus had stepped foot on home turf, and honestly he would have been happy if it had been even longer. He wasn’t exactly eager to get home, and he was sure that “home” wasn’t too eager to have him back either. He started walking away from the train platform, down a set of stairs, in the direction of his family home, casually glancing around the familiar surroundings. The place hadn’t changed a bit since he left.

Once he had left the train station, he took a second to stop and think. Setting his duffel bag full of clothes, laptop bag and guitar case down beside him, he retrieved his phone from his pocket. It was old, with several cracks in the screen, but it still worked. Brushing his long, messy, dark brown hair from his face with his other hand, he called the contact in his phone that was listed “Dad”, for the 10th time in the last 2 days. The call went straight to voicemail  this time. Marcus gritted his teeth, grumbling to himself softly. [color=ed1c24]“Why the fuck won’t anyone answer..?”[/color] He mumbled under his breath, sighing heavily again. He had been trying for days to get in contact with anyone in his family, with no luck.  Well, looks like they were gonna get a surprise.

Marcus wasn’t looking forward to returning home. He didn’t exactly have the greatest relationship with his family, and did a good job of burning that bridge when he left for college, so it was no surprise that no one in his family was returning his calls. If he could avoid it, he wouldn’t go back, but after being expelled from school, he didn’t really have any other options. Hesitantly, he picked up his things again, slinging his bags over his shoulder and holding his guitar case in his other hand, before starting down Reservoir Lane. 

It was quite a nostalgia trip for the young man, walking down the street where he grew up, albeit one he would rather not have. He had very few fond memories of his time growing up in this neighbourhood. It was never the nicest of places, and it seemed like it had only gotten worse. Rumours of increasing amount of people going missing from the area had been circulating recently, and the crime rate had definitely gone up. It wasn’t exactly the most pleasant time to be returning home.

Marcus stopped as he reached his family home. If anything, it looked more rundown than ever, and it never was in good shape to begin with. It almost looked abandoned, with boarded up windows, and not a single sign of inhabitation. Marcus raised a brow as he noticed a “For Sale” sign in the front yard. [color=ed1c24]“...The fuck…?”[/color] He mumbled to himself, before approaching the front door, tentatively knocking a few times. [color=ed1c24]“Hello? Anyone home?”[/color] He called out, with a tinge of worry colouring his voice. No response. If there was anyone home, they were doing a damn good job of hiding.

[color=ed1c24]“Fuck!”[/color] Marcus exclaimed at no one in particular, kicking the door in frustration. It definitely seemed like his family had up and left, without so much as a text message to let him know. He didn’t exactly blame them, especially after he had left things, but still. A little heads up would have been nice. Another heavy, frustrated sigh escaped him as he set his things down and sat on the front step of his abandoned family home. [color=ed1c24]“What the fuck am I supposed to do now…?”[/color] He pondered to himself, staring blankly out into the street.