Authors note: I think this original, I've not read anything like this. It came to me during physics, the dialog kind of wrote itself. PLEASE email me if you have an idea for where this story might be headed. Ummm...and yes I would like reviews, even if you hate it.

She danced
And she danced. The music flowed through her like a fire. A ray of sunlight seemed to fall only on her. Flowers fell from her hair as she twirled. Her soul filled with complete joy, unhappiness and worry left her. Then, it stopped. As suddenly as it had come the joy fled her soul, the worry took its place. She felt like crying.
"Why did you stop?"
"I was tired, I've been singing for hours."
"No you haven't, it's only been a few minutes."
"You always say that! Anyway it's your turn, all I want is a small flame."
"You know that's all I can make anymore."
"Yes I know. But please, I can't see anything but darkness without the flame."
"I'll be tired for so long if I do though."
"Fine, I'll sing you to sleep."
"Really?"
"If you want, I still don't see why you like the music so much. It can't free us."
"Neither can the fire."
The boy looks in the direction of her voice, the sadness in his eyes only known because of his voice,
"Do we have to always argue about this? In the end, you give in and I get to see a little, then you sleep and I sing again."
"We have to do SOMETHING...besides, we don't even know if we can escape nor do we know why we are here."
"Why bother, I don't even remember a time when it wasn't dark."
"How could you say that?!"
"I don't see sun and flowers and whatever else you see, all I can see is a small flame. I can't remember anything but pictures anymore, they never make sense."
"Should I describe things again?"
"No, it only confuses what I remember."
"You remember Mom, don't you?"
"Her face."
"And Dad?"
"His laugh."
"Why his laugh?"
"It sounds like mine."
"You should laugh more often."
"I guess. Will you make the flame now?"
"Sure."
First he saw a hand, it seemed to glow in the dark. Then, slowly, a small spark appeared. His eyes stung, unaccustomed to any light, as he stared at it. The last few seconds of the flames life he used to look, yet again, into his sisters eyes. When he saw them, he was able to remember his mother, but he knew better than to tell her. She couldn't understand, he was so much younger than her, so Mom kind of became a vague face, almost nonexistent.
"Do you think anyone is looking for us?"
"I lost it...I'm sorry, I used to be able to keep the flame for much longer."
"Do you think anyone is looking for us?"
"Will you sing a little? I'm tired."
And he shrugged and sung. She didn't have to say no, he could tell from the way she ignored the question. As he sung he tried to remember, their seventh birthday party. He could remember that because he had sung to the entire family. It was his Gift. She should be casting full spells, her magic strengthening, but it wasn't. She needed to practice and be happy. That's why he sung to her, that's why he made her light the fire for him. That, and he needed to see something real sometimes.
"Matthew?"
"Yes?"
"If Mom is still alive...*yawn* she'll be looking for us."
"What if she's just next door?"