As far back as Jake could remember, he had only dreamt of one thing.
Every night, Jake dreamt of a face he had never seen, of a person he had never met, from a world he had never been to.
As a child, he tried to tell his parents and brother, but they wrote it off as a product of an active imagination and grew tired of hearing about it.
Jake, on the other hand, never grew tired of his dreams, always eager to fall asleep and dream of a boy with gold eyes who looked so different than himself.
As Jake grew, he watched the boy grow as well, watched as the small, lanky child grew stronger every day.
He couldn’t help the jealously that coursed through him at times when he thought about the boy roaming freely among the lush planet,
while Jake found himself struggling for breath at times within his own dying atmosphere.
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