• All the ladies and gentlemen danced. The boy sitting on the hearth of the abnormally large fireplace in the ballroom was almost sure that the colors were beautiful. If this had happened five years ago, or even three, he could have made out some of the harsher colors, like red and yellow, or maybe the vibrant green of the bridesmaids’ dresses, but now he could only see the black and white. Everything else was gray, monochromatic gray. Though the boy felt his vision fading by increments everyday, these people still danced, laughed, talked, hugged. As a couple passed by him, the breeze created from their happy dance caused his bangs to fall back into his face from their carefully planned position behind his ears. He brushed the once-blond hair out of his eyes and frowned.
    He felt the inside pocket of his jacket to be sure that his ‘gift’ was still there. He immediately thought himself a fool for this, as nothing of that sort could sprout legs and take off running. He leaned back against the flagstones that made up the elaborate fireplace and watched the people twirl endlessly. He closed his eyes and listened to the orchestra play a familiar tune who’s name escaped him at the moment. He heard his uncle’s footsteps coming closer under the music with his hearing that was growing more sensitive as his sight degraded.
    “Hey, how’s my favorite nephew?” his uncle asked, crouching down to the boy’s level. He was only twelve years older than the boy, who was eleven, but had taken care of the boy for five years now. He had insistent black hair and gold eyes that shone with a friendly light, but there was a hidden pain that the boy saw. He often wondered if other people saw the same pain in his uncle’s eyes. “You look bored.” When the boy nodded, the young man chuckled and petted the boy’s hair fondly. The boy blushed and looked at the dancing flames of the hearth.
    “Just a little bit.”
    “Come on,” The man stood and pulled up with him. “I’ve got someone you need to meet.”
    “Who?”
    “You remember what happened four years ago, right?”
    The boy nodded.
    “You remember Anika…”
    The boy nodded again. How could he have forgotten? That day, four years ago when he heard the news, his uncle had run out of the house. He was gone for three days. The boy took care of himself until his uncle came back with apologies and a story. The story was of his best friend, a boy named Anika, and how in an attempt to save him from an oncoming car, his older brother threw him into the way of another. The boy’s uncle had left to get his wits about him, to find a light in the darkness he was suddenly thrown into.
    But ever since that day, his uncle was different. What had been a overly cheerful and content person was replaced with a depressed, and mental older person, who didn’t take him out for an ice cream sundae every Thursday anymore, who didn’t watch ridiculous cartoons with him, who could barely get himself out of bed in the mornings to make the boy his breakfast before walking him to school. The boy had accepted these changes as something that was inevitable as the loss of his sight. His uncle had been growing happier in the last few months. The boy didn’t know why, and really didn’t care. His vision had stopped corroding with the return of his uncle’s happiness. The visits to the therapist stopped, as did the medicine his uncle took ever morning.
    Then the invitation came. When he got it, the boy’s uncle had been thrilled. He explained that the boy would finally get to meet his new friend, the one who’d brought him out of the darkness. But when he said who it was, that is what was the bad part. The one who’d thrown him in the darkness to begin with, Anika’s older brother. The boy had been angry, and his uncle had been at a loss as to why. But the boy knew what he had to do, yes, and he planned to carry that out tonight. He would free his uncle, the only family who would have him. There was no way he would let a murderer take his uncle away.
    His uncle led him into a room. There, sitting in a chair, was the one the boy wanted. He let his hand brush against the pocket where the ‘gift’ was. It reassured him that he only had to wait for the right time. The man sitting with his head in his hands looked up when he heard the two pairs of footsteps coming on the tile. He caught sight of the boy and smiled softly. The boy stopped abruptly a couple feet away. The man held out a hand to the boy, who hesitated.
    “You must be Yuya, Gabriel’s told me all about you.” The man said in a voice that clearly sounded as if the man had been crying. “I’m Sven, I don’t know how much Gabe’s told you about me.” The boy, confident now that this was the one that had hurt his brother so much, took the outstretched hand.
    “A little bit…” he said in his best innocent voice.
    “You’re cute, Yuya… how old are you? Ten? Twelve?”
    “Eleven,” Yuya corrected, trying his best to hold back a yawn, His uncle caught sight of the restrained yawn, and sat in a chair across from Sven.
    “Yuya, come here.” He said. Yuya walked over obediently. Gabriel pulled the boy into his lap.
    “What?”
    “You’re tired.” Gabriel said, stroking the boy’s hair again. Sven smiled fondly at the close relationship the two had. Yuya shook his head.
    “I’m not, really,” Yuya objected. Gabriel smiled, and hugged the boy close. Yuya relaxed and snuggled into his uncle’s chest, smelling the familiar scent he loved so much. He sighed a bit heavier than he intended, causing Gabriel to laugh softly. He was drifting off to sleep faster than he thought he would. It is three hours past my bedtime… Yuya thought before being lulled to sleep by his uncle’s voice.

    Yuya flinched awake from his usual nightmares. He sat up immediately and looked around. Gabriel had placed him on a bed in one of the rooms in the hotel where the wedding reception for Sven’s dad and new stepmother was being held. His hand flew to his pocket, feeling for the gift he hadn’t yet given Sven. When his hand met the almost warm metal, he relaxed. He scrambled off the bed and headed toward the open door to the balcony. He hid off to the side of the door jam and peeked out. Gabriel was standing behind Sven, resting his forehead on Sven’s shoulder. He heard his uncle’s words loud and clear.
    “Sven, I still miss Anika.”
    Yuya felt his heart stop and harden into a heart-shaped iceberg. He pulled the handgun out of his pocket and step into the moonlight out on the balcony. His hands were shaking and his eyes were starting to fuzz out everything. Without thinking, he pointed the gun at Sven and fired. The lone shot echoed through the night. Though his vision was draining away, he clearly saw Sven tumble over the low railing of the balcony. He also saw his uncle leap over after him.
    “Gabriel?” Yuya screamed. He dropped the gun, causing another shot to ring out, pointlessly. He ran to the railing to look over the edge. He slipped in the small puddle of blood Sven had left before falling and hit his head on the rail. His head spinning, Yuya looked over the edge. He saw that they were over ten floors up, he understood one thing., and one thing only. The only person who loved him in the whole world just leapt to his death after the person who ruined his life. Yuya was alone.
    As soon as this realization hit Yuya with full force, he lost sight of everything. He was plunged into the darkness that had haunted him from afar for the five years. He vomited over the edge of the balcony. After that, he fell to his knees in the pool of Sven’s blood and screamed as loud as he could.
    “Gabriel! I can’t see! Gabriel? I can’t see! Where are you, Gabriel?”