I don't own, you losers.

The moon shone soft light on a bed, lying on it was three children. In the middle was a boy barely five feet tall. His long black hair that went to his knees. On his left was a girl; she was about five six with frizzy brown hair that went to her butt. On the boys right was the tallest boy. He towered at six feet tall with red hair that went to his mid-back.

The middle's ethereal emerald green eyes shot open and from the child's mouth came an unearthly scream that was torn from his throat. The other boy's ice blue eyes and the girl's warm brown eyes opened. The girl burst into sobs at the pain in the boy's voice.

"I'm sorry," the boy said. "I need him, and I can't live without him."