And so you've decided to continue. I am glad. I hope you're prepared.
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Prologue:
She watched her son's face light up with delight with a feeling of satisfaction she rarely felt except when doing something to make him happy. He hurried to the dining table on his short little legs, clapping his hands excitedly at the bright red and gold decorations that adorned the room.
"My birthday!" he squealed happily, overcome with complete surprise and joy. "It's my birthday today!"
She watched him with a secret smile, still amazed that he seemed to always forget this important holiday until it happened. It made planning a surprise much easier, though, and it never ceased to amuse her. Her son dashed to the table and struggled happily into the great wooden armchair that sat at the head of the table.
The dining room was not very large, but the small round table with three chairs stationed at it fit perfectly into it. It was the exact size a small family needed, and proved to be perfect for decorating when special holidays called for it. The round wooden table was clothed in a brilliant golden plastic tablecloth, suitable for small children, and was covered with a small assortment of presents wrapped in either red or gold. Red ribbons hung from the ceiling, and gold streams of paper ran along the edge of the room in decoration. The decorations were small, but when combined with the candlelight—the only source of light in the room for the evening—they made a spectacular display.
The small boy's eyes seemed to dance cheerfully, the reflection of the candles glittering in them excitedly. He stared at the birthday cake in front of him with awe, and counted the candles. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5!" he declared, almost in a shout. "I'm five mommy! I'm five!"
"Yes you are," she smiled at him, her own joy growing fuller as she watched him examine the sparkling candles. It was almost sad to see him growing up, she thought, and yet she had never experienced anything more worthwhile than raising him.
"Make a wish and blow out the candles!" the boys father chuckled at his son, slouching back in his wooden chair with a satisfied expression. Normally he would sit at the head of the table, but this was a special occasion. Only once a year could his son sit in his spot at the table.
The boy nodded, his thick, reddish-brown hair sliding in front of his eyes. He brushed the hair out of his face with his hands, and squinted his eyes closed as tight as he could. Three seconds later, his wish made, he blew as hard as he could at the tiny flames on the candles.
The candles, instead of going out, burst into a brighter, more brilliant flame, each almost two inches high and burning the candle wax at an amazing speed. The boy started back in surprise, and a scared whimper entered his voice. "Mommy," he complained, pointing at the flames. He needn't have asked her to look.
She was staring at them in shock, watching them flicker higher than the depth of the cake itself, but soon overcame her surprise. Swiftly, she leaned over and blew the candles out. The flames disappeared without a fight, though the candles continued to melt. "It's okay sweetie," she said soothingly, sweeping the cake up into her hands and taking it into to kitchen. "They were only trick candles." She fished the candles and the wax carefully from the cake, and sliced the three of them some cake. When she sat down again, she found that the atmosphere had changed from relaxed to tense, and the prior joy she felt was gone.
A glance from her husband and she knew he was thinking the same thing she was. That was no accident. Silently, she forced a smile and turned back to her son. "Now," she said, handing him a present. "Let's open this one first!"
Her son took the present happily, throwing a confused glance to his parents. Getting no response from them concerning the flaming candles, he shrugged and ripped the wrapping paper off as only a five-year-old boy can do. His mother felt a real smile returning to her face. He was still innocent and happy, unaware of the important truth that had just been revealed.
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Leave me a comment, review, critique, whatever you like. But I would like some kind of response.
The actual story takes place next chapter. I hope you're ready for an adventure that is more real than any other I have ever written, and yet so much a fantasy that it could never be true. At least, not in the reality we know. Because in this story, the reality Takuya takes for granted is not really reality at all...
rika195