Rain poured from the sky above, as though the angels of Heaven were mourning the terrible tragedy that had fallen.
Though the rain had by now cleansed the soiled street, blood still stained the wooden houses lining the street, as it would for many years to come, no matter how many times it was scrubbed.
And then…
A young boy was walking slowly down the street.
He wore thin black shorts and a matching shirt. Even though he was drenched, he didn't so much as shiver.
Onward he walked, his head hung down so that his dripping bangs hid his face.
A roar of thunder rang out suddenly.
The boy stopped and stood still for moment before tilting his head back.
Dark charcoal gray eyes stared blankly at the matching gray sky. His face was smooth, free of any expression.
He stood that way for quite a while, though how long he could not say.
And eventually, his thoughts turned to the one thing he did not want to think about.
'nii-san…'
His eyes slipped shut and his brow furrowed in pain as he struggled to rid his mind of the unwanted memories.
Memories filled with red eyes, red blood, red skies, and a red moon.
And other memories that hurt even more; a quiet smile, a promise finally fulfilled, and strong hands supporting him, holding him.
Suddenly the rain streaming down his face wasn't cold.
He let his head hang down, but the warm rain didn't leave.
He wished for comfort, for love, for approval, for…
Nii-san.
Silent sobs shook his thin, small frame, but the only sound to pass his lips was a quiet whimper.
Still the rain poured, still the thunder roared, but the boy didn't move.
He stood in the rain and mourned at his loss.
A flash of lightening seared across the sky.
In the house at the end of the street, in the large room at the end of its hall, the lightening illuminated a cracked picture on the floor.
A picture, a memory from the past that mocked what now was with the smiles frozen on the people's faces.
Cracks spread like a spider web across the photo's face, leaving only two people untouched and whole. But of the two, only one was visible in the flash of light, for the other was hidden by the shadows.
It was the boy in the street, or who he used to be for he was the boy in the photo no longer.
No
That boy in the picture had a family, a home.
The boy in the street had no family now, and for him home was lost.
He was alone now, alone in a world full of shadows and waiting demons.
Alone in the dark.