Life is too beautiful for anyone to comprehend while they take their next breath. But it only takes one second, one tear, and one final missed breath for the beauty to become the beast. When it happens, everything that was once a beam of smiling light, turned into the horned demons that hid under a child's bed. They stalked us, waiting for a limb to fall out of the safety of our coverings, to pull us down into their world. Only those who feel the scaled touch of the cruel beast, who have survived through their haunting screams and acidic tears, who have felt the fangs against their bare skin, only they can see what others cannot.

They begin to see the way the light filters through the confined space under their bed, the sound of their parents laughing at some forgotten television program, and the billowed folds of your tossed aside blanket; they begin to see the beauty once again. The beauty in the dust as it falls in an endless dance in the light, the happiness a simple joke can bring, and the safe feeling of being warm under a cocoon of fabric.

But seeing is only half of the battle for survival.

Seeing does not start the fight for freedom. Seeing only sparks the hope for the revolution. It is up to the trapped to do the rest, for their eyes cannot pull them towards the beauty; they can only lead.

It is when the pained succeeds in pulling oneself from the claws and doesn't give in to the pain as their own blood begins to fall. It is when the scared begin to overcome their fears and fight back - when they punch their inner shark in the nose. It is when the trapped find the path to become free. Only then can the curse of the beast be broken and beauty be allowed to thrive once again. Only then is your bed justly a safe haven and the monsters docile. Only then can one appreciate the time given to them and be thankful for each breath they are blessed enough to be allowed to take.

Only when they've struggled through the frontlines of war can one lift their head to see the beauty in the light of a new day. Only then can the dead truly come alive.

Nick put his pen to rest. He allowed the wind from his open window to hide the words behind sheets of his past woes. His desk chair was pushed back with a creak and the notebook left open as the Lucas made his way downstairs, eyes downcast and head bowed.

His mother smiled at him, the gesture not reaching her wet eyes. She reached over and straightened her son's tie before she patted him once on the cheek.

"Are you ready?"

Nick nodded numbly, though in truth, he wasn't. He had yet to do as his own words had said. He had yet to pull through and survive. But, he fathomed, saying goodbye had to be another step in the process of healing.

"Come on, sweetheart."

He allowed his mom to lead him, his hand in hers, out of the front door.

He felt every eye of those gathered in their front yard on him as they stopped at the end of their driveway.

"It's alright, honey," his mom gently told him.

Nick nodded, though the ache in his heart contradicted his mother's comforting words.

"You don't need to do this," she tried as she saw her son blink away the tears that threatened to spill over. But Nick shook his head. He needed to do this. For them.

He lifted his head and regarded those gathered before him. He let the pain show in his face; let them know that this was all real. Few looked away, unable to take his pain along with theirs as tears littered their carefully manicured cheeks.

"Thank you for coming," Nick began. He put all of his energy into keeping his voice steady, but it was in vain. His words waivered with the tears he held back and shook along with his hands. "I apologize," he looked towards his feet. "This is hard for me too."

He felt someone come up from behind him and put a steady hand on his trembling shoulder.

"A tragedy happened here last night. Something that affected all of us on the deepest level," he looked back up and met the eyes of those most pained; family. "I saw it happen, which is why I am speaking to you all. They never saw it coming; I didn't either. And they didn't deserve it. It was a cruel act of unjustified rage, and they weren't even the intended targets. They were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Nick took a breath in attempts to gather himself again. "It hurts to know that they stood where I do now. To know they were speaking to me just as I am to all of you." Nick paused again to meet the tear-stained face of Stella Malone and Macy Misa. They both nodded to him and tried to smile to encourage him on, but the action did nothing more than let their lips twitch upwards once. Just once.

"Last night, we all lost a part of our family," he began again after he tried unsuccessfully to swallow passed a lump in his throat. "The two of them...they were so happy and just blossomed with the best kinds of personality. They really were beautiful people. It would impossible to ever replace them and even more so to forget them."

Again, Nick let his eyes wander to anywhere but the crowd as a picture of them smiling crept into his head, their eyes shining with beautiful laughter. He closed his eyes for a second, haunted by their happiness. The hand on his shoulder squeezed as another one latched onto his other side.

"I'm sorry," Nick apologized again with another deep breath. "I just still can't believe it. One minute, they were smiling and joking while I laughed form the upstairs window. And the next..." he shook his head. "It's hard."

"They will be missed," Nick finished, unable to say more on the previous topic. "I didn't know them personally. They were just fans outside my window; and now I hate myself for thinking that." Nick looked over his shoulders to his brothers, eyes filled with terrible sorrow. "I didn't know them, but I still loved them. They were still a part of the JONAS family. And it hurts to know that they're gone."

Nick's eyes rested on the last surviving sibling, who was unable to be with her sisters due to missing her train. "But even though they're gone, they live on in our memories and hearts."

Nick took a breath and accepted the guitar from Kevin. "Cheryn told me that her sisters loved this song. So tonight, and for every night ahead of us, this song will be dedicated to her sisters: Madilyn and Ashley." As soon as the first note left his fingers, his audience bowed their head at the slow lament of the familiar song.

"You don't know what you got
'Till it's gone
And you don't know what it's like
To feel so low
And every time you smile or laugh you glow
You don't even know...

So I wait 'till kingdom come
All the highs and lows are gone
A little bit longer
And I'll be fine
I'll be...
Fine."

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

Chibiyu: This is eternally dedicated to a young man whom I wished I could have known better. Rest in peace Zachary Finn. Your smile, sarcastic humor, and good nature will be missed dearly. Rest in peace, my friend.