The pair trudged from lunch to English, after Social Studies. Two pop quizzes in a day? What could make the day worse? Not much.

They walked into English and sat down at their usual seats. Mika looked at the homework board and cursed under her breath- she hated homework. Luke sighed intently. 'It's just a few pages.' He whispered to her as she glared at the teacher. He slouched back in his seat as other students began to flood in and take their seats. Luke's thoughts began to drift as the teacher complained about her other class, as usual. Luke thought back to his dream, quite strange, but minor now that he thought about it. 'Alright class, first order of business!' The teacher announced, 'We have a new student who will be joining us!' She looked to the side back at the door. 'You can come in now!'

He looked back up at the door to see the new student. His heart stopped. He slammed his face down on the desk. 'I'm seeing things…' he thought to himself, 'That's all it is! Just seeing things.' He looked up again but he was still there. His chestnut hair with blonde tips, although they looked grey now. His blue eyes, his sand colored skin, his unmistakable scar that rested on his left cheek. He knew it wasn't him, or didn't know if he wished it was or wasn't. Sasha must have have a good reason to send him away… was he a murderer or something? Not that it mattered, because it wasn't him. Luke had to know this. He was dead, Gray.

Mika knew something was wrong with Luke when the student entered the classroom. She could see it. She gently touched his shoulder, in an attempt to calm him down. She could feel how tense he was. But at the same time she was confused. Why was he so upset at the arrival of this new student? She looked up at the student. 'He seems normal…' Mika thought. 'I don't get it.' The student walked to the back and took an empty seat, claiming it his. Class seemed to go on for years.

Neither Luke nor Mika caught the student's name. Luke was still in shock by the student's resemblance to his late brother. And Mika was still trying to figure out why Luke was going insane. Neither spoke a word, nor even looked at one another. They just walked. The pair walked about halfway to Mika's house when she had decided to break the lingering silence. 'So… 'wanna talk about it?' Mika asked calmly.

Luke remained quiet.

'Did he look like him?'


'Was he nice?


'Why did he leave?'

'I don't know… He didn't have a choice.'

That was where the conversation ended.

After Mika went home, Luke went in his room and had a mental breakdown. Could it be… him? Luke had thought Gray was dead for years, but could he really be alive? And if so, why was he here again? Did he know about their mother's death? Is that why he came back? Luke slammed his face down on his bed. He had so many questions. But, then again, what if he was wrong? This could just be a coincidence that this new kid looked exactly like his brother who left at age seven and was assumed to be dead ever since.

This was way to strange. Ever since Sasha died Luke's life has been strange, but this was the worst thing yet.

Luke gripped his chestnut hair with his hands, pulling it back as he gritted his teeth and told himself to hold it together. How could it be Gray? It couldn't be, he reassured himself. Gray was totally dead. And even if he wasn't- no, he was.

But what if he wasn't?

And why would he be coming for Luke?

The silence that resonated had suddenly been broken.


He would ignore it, he told himself. It was nobody.


He clenched his teeth, rolling onto his back and almost screaming.


But he realized something- it was coming from his window, that faced to the road, rather than the door. But who-




It couldn't be.


Could it?


And so Luke was overwhelmed, and so he slept…

Everything was blurry, but her face was the blurriest. However much he squinted, he couldn't see her face, her nose, her lips, and her eyes…

But he knew something was wrong. He was six, but he wasn't stupid. She was stiff, but reserved, and Gray hadn't gotten up yet. Luke had asked where he was, but there was no answer. Never an answer, always a question…

And as anger unfurled inside of him, something unfurled behind him- and wings of anger they were, arching above his back is long, graceful arches, and he was fuming, and he could hear everything, and nothing, he was blind, he could see too much- he could taste pain, he could taste anger-

He could taste a choice, and he honed in on his mother screaming and sobbing.

And a choice he made as she muttered and cried, screaming that she must keep him this time, that she couldn't lose another-

And Luke chose, and he relaxed, and all of a sudden they were there- the girl with the wings that belonged on a hawk, and the girl who seemed so much like him, though he couldn't put his finger on it- her wings furled, cat ears alert- and they guided him over to the window, and they opened the blinds-

Luke woke with a start.


The dream.


He opened the blinds, the windows, sticking his head out-

'Gray? Gray, are you there?'

Both boys met each other's eyes.

There he stood. Alive and breathing. His older brother and the last of his family.

And for the first time in a while, Luke genuinely smiled.