The young boy looked over the temple — his temple. He had to squint to see beyond the brightness of the white marble. All there was in the main room was a raised dais with a tall throne placed on it. He heaved a sigh that reverberated off the walls, echoing through the empty chamber, and made his way to the dais.
As he walked along the smooth, polished floor, he grunted as he pulled along his sword. It was almost as tall as he was, but he'd been told to go nowhere without it. With the extra weight, the walk took twice as long, but eventually he made it to the throne.
After dropping the sword twice, he finally managed to lay it against the great throne. Satisified that his ‘gift' was safe, he once again looked around the empty room.
What was he to do now? The anger he'd been feeling since the temple doors had slammed shut behind him was finally catching up to him. How could they do this to him? They'd handed him the sword, given him a pat on the back, and without even a token show of affection had said their goodbyes and left.
With a burst of anger, he hurled his fist into the nearest wall. To his disappointment, he hadn't made a dent in the marble. That tiny fact pushed him over the edge and the tears fell from his eyes, threatening never to stop.
He leaned his shoulder against the wall as he wept and began tracing patterns in the marble with his finger. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that everywhere he traced, the white marble turned black as night. He wandered around the hall until the entire room had been turned black.
Wiping away his tears, he decided he'd had enough of this room and walked through the doors to the rest of the temple. As he walked the halls, he ran his hands along the walls, continuing the work he'd begun in the main hall.
After having passed through every room in the temple, he finally reached the bedroom. He looked sadly upon the bed which was twice the size of his last one. It was an adult's bed, not a child's. I guess that's the point, he thought. I'm not supposed to be a kid anymore.
He was tired after the emotional day he'd had and crawled into the large bed in the now-black room. Looking up at the ceiling, the tears fell once more. There would be no one to say goodnight to him. No one to sing him to sleep. No one to tuck him in.
Pulling the blankets over his head, he spotted something he had't noticed before. He got up from the bed and made his way to a chair across the room. There, sitting on the cushion, was Max. He picked up the black cat, snuggling into the artificial fur. He carried the toy back to his bed and pulled the covers over both of them.
After a few moments, he pulled down the covers.
"You know what Max? We don't need the covers anymore. We may not like being here, but at least we don't have to hear Mommy and Daddy fighting anymore."
Pulling the cat tightly to his chest, the boy fell asleep.