The blade was wider than my hand, but far too short to be used in battle. It was plain polished metal without design or blood-grooves, yet as I stared...at it, there seemed to be a pattern just below the surface. I held the blade up into the light of the late afternoon sun.Starting at the tip of the blade, a small wisp of white began to trail, soon joined by others. My arm began to feel heavy as the streamers reached for the ground, so I took the hilt in both hands.A shock like lightning seared. Moms not overly religious or anything but she's always at church on Sunday, which means I was always at church on Sunday when I still lived with her. And that's where Ray comes in.I've known Ray since we were both around 5, we've been friends for so long that we think of each other as brothers, though there's no way anyone would ever think it considering Ray's Hispanic and I'm white. But like brothers, sometimes we fight. Even though my life changed a lot when I left my home and went to. More

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