A dark room. No windows, no light, not even a candle to keep the suffocating darkness away.

A small child. Quite young, about 4, huddled in a corner in the small room filled with darkness.

Soft sobs filled the room, echoing through the darkness. They could fight the haunting silence away, but not the intimidating darkness, or the vast emptiness of the attic room.

6 words, the boy mouthed over and over: "Mom, I want to come home."


Whistling, a bang and a bright explosion of colours. The joyful celebrations were well under way. The mirthful atmosphere surrounding the merry area was obvious. At the top end of usually tranquil field there was loud, energetic music to which many people through out the few fields the occasion was being celebrated mainly in, were dancing.

Anyone could dance with anyone, young or old, male or female, anyone and everyone attending joined in the delightful dancing, whether in the main dancing area, laughing and sweating as they move or simply swaying side to side on the edges of a field as they happily hummed and served the thirsty people drinks.

Watching the scene from his cool spot in the old oak tree just before the old mountain path began, the raven-haired man sighed.


"Miss. Trepe?"

"Here, Sir."

"Mr. Valentine?"

"Here, Sir."

"Mr. Watcher?"

"He's on holiday, Sir."

"Thank you, Mr. Quen. Miss. Williams?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And finally, Mr. Yumi?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Right, that done we shall start the lesson by collecting in your homework."

The class had different reactions, whereas the majority already had their work on the desk in front of them, a few people quickly pulled their binders from their bags and one or two people unhappily groaned because they had genuinely forgotten it. However, the usual half a dozen sat with one arm over the back of their chairs, chewing gum, leaning back on their chairs and sniggering.

"Mr. Kinneas, where is your homework?"

"Don't have it, do I?" A few snorts of laughter from his friends.

"Do NOT encourage him! Mr. Kinneas, shall I assume you have not done the homework set for last lesson either?"

"Do what you like, s'not like I care."

"Out of my classroom now, I shall not be spoken to like that." Said their teacher in a frighteningly calm way as he marched his pupil out the door, closing it firmly behind him.

The young man, 'Mr. Valentine', sighed as he glanced at his best friend in the seat next him as she sat seething.

"Calm down, Beatrix, it's alright."

"No Vincent, it is not! We never get much work done in this lesson because of … that lot!"

"True, true, that gets very annoying …"

Alone, the teacher stormed back into the classroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Right. On with the lesson and anybody else who feels like disrupting my class, get out now or when you do so you shall go straight to the headmaster."

The teenagers picked up their pens, settling down to work.