The boy walks quickly, though there is no need. He still has much time. The icy sharts of glass in his chest deepen with every step. The pain almost felt good, if it were not for the dull throbbing at the edge of his senses, shaving away at the sharp edges of reality. There is a shroud around him, an invisible, dark shroud, hiding the world from him. To everyone else, he appears cheerful, uneffected by anything. The walk is now over, he sits on the hard plastic. He is insane, he knows it.

Do insane people wonder if they're insane? He thinks, fleetingly. He sees the culprit for the unjustice done to him. He is only a few feet away. The boy dares not steal a glance. The culprit looks at him, though. Looks at him so intently, it is a wonder the boy does not have a hole in the side of his head.

A deep voice echo's about the large room, the boy tries to listen, but fails. So he waited. The boy waits for hours until a loud, high-pitched ringing fills his ears for only a moment, and the waiting is over. The boy rises, bowing his head, and heads for the place he calls home.

He lays on a soft bed, finally allowing himself to feel the full pain of the icy shards in his chest. The pain is just as sharp as broken glass, and he is falling deeper and deeper into a pit of despair. Deeper and deeper he falls, letting his own half-crazed thoughts consume him. He fears he will never return when he is suddenly and painfully yanked back to reality by a sad tinkling melody. The boy answers the phone with a quiet and dazed Hello?

It is the Culprit. When the night is darkest, I long to see you. Where the night is darkest, I long to hear your sweet voicce. Where we first met....

The boy is healed. He is full of hope as he dashes away from the place he calls home, to where the night is darkest, to where he first laid eyes on The Culprit. The shards are gone, his body is warm, no longer cold as it had been for so long. He waits where the night is darkest, paitent. Under the shade of beautiful trees, he waits until the night is darkes, only a few hours before dawn.

The Culprit approches. The Boy throws himself into his waiting arms. The Culprit smiles an unseen, sinister, and dark smile.

My heart is yours The Boy confesses

I and mine is yours, mon amour. The Culprit lies.

Why do we meet here?

It is darkest. The Culprit smiles his dark and sinister smile, but it is too late for the naieve Boy. The Culprit advances and casts a haunting spell over the Boy in the darkness. A blade glints in the comming light, and it is stained. The Culprit gently seduces him towards death.

Blood was spilt, a life was taken, but some greif is so great, even death keeps it's distance. The boy lived, but just barely. Just enough to stand, follow The Culprit, and strangle him with his own hands.

The boy falls to his knees beside the one he once loved. His body is not yet cool, and The boy wants to feel his warmth one last time. He lays his head on The Culprit's chest, the heartbeat that was once so warm and fimilar is gone. He rises, reassured, and stumbles away. The knife that should've killed him was still stuck between his ribs, not quite peircing his heart. He pulled it out slowly, and cleaned it in the glass. He could never remember how long he stumbled like that in the dark, but when the journey finally ends, he fell, and he remembers no more