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With a final glance, he lunged into the abyss. The darkness enveloped him, consumed him, made him part of it. The darkness was everything. But even in the darkness, his light shone through. The darkness fled from the burning light, from the heart of this boy. The abyss was gone. It was simply a continuation of the normal earth. The gaping chasm was no more than a sandy stretch of gray earth now.

It was from this dream that Andrew awoke to a pale autumn morning. A chill wind blew through the crisp leaves, tossing them about on the lawn. Andrew sat up suddenly, shivering as the warm blanket fell from him, exposing his bare skin to the chill air of his drafty room. He glanced only passingly at his alarm clock, knowing full well that it was earlier than he would normally get up. Still, he got out of bed and began shuffling around his room, searching for the warm clothes he had set aside last night. Once clothed in a warm shirt and his favorite pair of jeans, he crept down the stairs as quietly as he could, attempting not to wake his younger siblings.

Entering the kitchen, he was only mildly surprised to see his mother with a plate of freshly cooked eggs and bacon. Andrew's mother seemed to have this sixth sense that told her when to get up and cook breakfast for her children. It was never cold, nor too hot, but always perfectly timed to their arrival in the kitchen. Her long, dark hair fluttered slightly as she shooed him over to the table and set the plate down in front of him. He flashed her the customary smile of thanks as he dug in to his meal. She watched him eat. That infallibly perfectly arranged hair of hers framing her smiling face. Andrew paused a moment and considered how little he resembled his mother. Her eyes were a dark chocolate brown to his livid green, her jet black hair a far cry from his sandy blonde. Yet, there was something in the eyes...that look of pride and confidence, bordering on brazen arrogance that the two shared. After a brief moment of eye contact, she got up and began to cook again. Sure enough, Andrew's younger brother Stephan shuffled in moments after the food was done, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Andrew couldn't help but smile as Stephan pulled his ten-year-old self onto one of the high stools that served as chairs in the house. His mother, ever eagle-eyed caught the smile. "And just what are you grinning at, mister?" Her face held a small smirk as she said it, but her eyes held a smile. Andrew laughed a little.

"I just don't know how you do it. In my whole 16 years of life, I can't remember a single time that I've come down those stairs and not found you waiting with breakfast. You always seem to know when we're getting up, even before we do." His mother laughed at this, and gave him a wink.

"Just call it mother's intuition." As she said this, she deftly cracked another egg into the pan and threw in a couple strips of bacon. In yet another feat that bordered on psychic, Andrew's sister Lisa walked into the kitchen right on cue, stretching and stifling a yawn. Lisa was 13, in the middle of Andrew and Stephan. She smiled at her older brother, and it struck him how much she looked like his mom. In fact, both of his siblings looked more like his mother than he, sharing her eyes and hair, yet their eyes lacked the fiery tint that his carried. Lisa hopped onto the stool next to Stephan and took the plate from her mother, giving a hurried thanks before flashing her plate a voracious grin and shoveling food into her mouth. Stephan stared at her for a moment, as if to note her apparent insanity, before returning to his own plate. Andrew chuckled as he stood, ruffling his siblings' hair and giving his mom a quick peck on the cheek before slipping on his favorite pair of worn sneakers and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He shouted a goodbye as he walked out the door, which was only returned earnestly by his mother, as Lisa and Stephan were still face-deep in their food.

Andrew walked the same path to school as always. Walking at a leisurely pace, letting the wind whip around his lithe body and play with his shoulder length hair. The leaves danced in the street, their rustling the only sound in the early morning. The sun was hardly up, and most people would still be in their kitchens, nursing a cup of coffee. He reveled in the wind, with its crisp edge awakening all of his senses. He heard a car start in the distance and drive away from him, the sound fading beneath the symphony of the leaves. And then the sound of the leaves faded as well. For a brief moment, everything was absolutely still. The breeze had halted, and the leaves did not stir. It was as if someone had substituted a photograph for reality. And in the silence, Andrew heard a whisper. Not much more than a rasp, he strained desperately to hear what it said, but before he could make out it's words, the wind returned and the air was filled with the rustling of the leaves. He stood for a moment, a little irritated that he hadn't made out the words, then realized how silly he was being. The street was deserted, the wasn't anyone there to say anything! He laughed a little at himself, then kept on walking down the street.

Andrew's school was fairly standard. Over a thousand students, plenty of them stuck-up jocks, and not a few stereotypical nerds. Andrew fit neither of these categories. He studied hard, passing easily in all of his classes, but by no means was he a nerd. He'd never been into comic books, computers, or video games. He was a pretty laid back guy. However, he was far from being a jock. He avoided sports, and even sporting events, as much as possible, which annoyed the many coaches a great deal. Andrew was in good shape. While he wasn't ripped, he still had a good set of muscles on him, built up by years of helping his mother around the house in his father's stead.. His morning classes flew by, math and English being nothing special, and the test in world history falling woefully short of what he had prepared for. Lunch was nachos, a favorite of Andrew's, and only one stuck-up senior mocked his hair. People liked to do that. They claimed it made him look girly, but a few seconds under his fiery gaze was usually more than enough to shut them up. After his nachos had been dutifully scarfed down to the last drop of cheese, Andrew proceeded to fly through chemistry, Spanish, P.E., and his study hall. When the final bell rang, he stayed in his seat a minute. He figured there was no point rushing into the mash of people in the hallway, so he let it calm down a bit before heading to his locker. After stocking his backpack with all the school supplies he would need for that night's studying, he walked back home the same way he had come.

As he walked leisurely down the street, he remembered the moment of silence from that morning. He laughed at himself again for thinking about something so childish. Looking up from his reverie, he noticed his mother at the opposite end of the street, grocery bags in her hands. She must have gone to get something to cook for dinner from the grocery store a few blocks away. his family couldn't afford a car, so she had walked the whole distance. He began to wave to her, a shout practically on his tongue, when a strange man he hadn't noticed hit his mother over the head with what looked like a bat. She fell to the ground, dropping the groceries. Andrew's shout fell dead in his mouth. Without thinking, he began to run, dropping his backpack for the sake of speed. The mugger had pulled a knife on Andrew's mother, and was waving it in her face, demanding that she hand over her purse or he'd slit her throat. Andrew stopped a few feet away, seeing the knife in the mugger's hand.

The mugger noticed Andrew, and shifted so he was facing both Andrew and his mother. He snarled, noting that Andrew had taken an aggressive stance, his feet set wide, shoulders squared, and his fists clenched. "Now don't try anything stupid, boy, or I'll cut you into ribbons, I will." He swung the knife back and forth as he said it. Andrew looked at his mother, checking to make sure she wasn't hurt. He made brief eye contact with her, and in that moment his world was as ice. Her eyes had no confidence, no pride in them. Her eyes held only fear, and that was something Andrew had believed was not possible for his mother. As childish as it was, he still believed that no matter what, she could take care of not only herself, but also the children she loved so much. And then the ice melted, thawed by the fire that had sprung to Andrew's eyes. He didn't think, he didn't hesitate. He just jumped forward and pelted the b*****d who had scared his mother right in the face. He felt something in the mugger's face give, presumably his jaw.

Andrew stood, stunned by what he had just done, looking down on the unconscious man, his face already beginning to swell. His mother stood next to him, clearly shocked that her beloved baby had just knocked a man out in a single punch. He turned to her, and looked into her eyes...no longer was there fear, it had been replaced by shock and awe. Andrew hugged her, and that broke her last strand of composure. She clutched her darling child as hard as she could, and she cried. She cried into his shoulder, wondering when he had ever gotten big enough that she could manage that without crouching down. Andrew comforted his mother, holding her to him and muttering that everything would be fine. The rustling of the leaves worked it's hypnotic effect, and soon his mother quieted. The leaves, too, fell silent, and the world was again a photograph. This time, it wasn't a whisper or a rasp. The voice was clear as day.
"I'm proud of you."

Andrew smiled to hear that voice again. The world resumed, and Andrew took his mother home. Leaving her safely in the house, he jogged to retrieve his backpack. Before going back inside, he turned and watched the leaves, swirling in the wind. He gave them one glance as he turned to open the door, and spoke to the voice he couldn't have heard. "Thanks, Dad."