In the muggle world when you're underage,unless you don't drive out of the way of life things are quite easy. And if things can be easy and you build up a pretty life for yourself you're sure there's gonna be lots of happy photos of that to look through over and over again,when you'll be older,and have a family yourself. Except for what happens when things get twisted and you find out that indeed your life is quite curious too and you're sending your kid off to a sort of boarding school,where he can be,however,what he truly is. It's hard at first,you think you can remember how you tried to send tears away when you're waving at him,holding his brand new camera,and laugh at his photos with him when he comes back home that christmas going on and on about how amazing this brand new world is. He's talkative and has found for himself something he likes. Except for the fact that your life isn't so perfect anymore,that you're left empty-handed when life had just began,for him,for you've outlived him and think you can never look through those snaps of happiness again,because you're helpless at something only he knew. A war he faced on his own,through a tangle of lies he told you to keep you safe from harm. Take a snap of it,Mary,because you're never getting your child back. Your child who was underage,and stayed behind to help,a child who wasn't so far from being of age,who started taking less and less photos home year by year just to not make you hurt. Take a snap of your child lying on a stretcher,pale and cold because this is the only thing you've left. You feel you're somehow granted the chance to see Colin being nothing more than asleep,you saw some other kids,some of his friends,and you had to look away...because you couldn't bear the sight,the photo of something which is burnt in your mind forever. No snaps of happiness,ever again. It's not fair,not anymore. Now he'll be gone forever,it won't be 10 months,or a week at a friend's house,it will be forever and you realize that photos can capture so much. A moment,a smile,a tear,even the soul of people,but they can't give you back your child,if only be the reminder of what is not there anymore. But you can't fall,you can't,not because you aren't screaming inside,but because for how short his life might have been,he was there. Like a picture lasting forever. You kneel beside him,and you can still see the child he used to be,the brilliant mind he had. You spot something falling off his clothes. It's a photo,and there's the four of you all together. You're there,in his mind,even when he was alone,you're his strenght in the darkness and into that darkness you know he's one of those who snapped the picture of freedom,even if you can't be part of the picture of his life anymore.