My grandma’s death was one that hit no one more than my little cousin. Only 3 years old she was his best friend, always there to play as she lived in their basement near his playroom. But with my family not having a house meant I had to live where she once had.

Having finished my homework, I finally went to relax and play my video game. But the crashing of plastic toys and fire engine sirens made it hard.

“Hey bud, whatcha doing?” I asked.

“Playing with my firetruck.” He replied eagerly.

I saw him growing up too early, the same as me.

“Hey bud, do you want to try playing a game with me?”

“Like what?” He replied with caution.

“You wanna play Mario Kart?” 

Without him saying a word, a flash of light made its way to my room where it shined for the rest of the night.

I was in my room the next night with more work than I knew what to do with. When a familiar light flickered around the corner.

“Hey, buddy.” The only thing I could think to say. But no response.

What can I do? It’s not like he is telling me what he wants.

Finally, with empty time on my hands, I turned on the Nintendo. The sweet ding of relief taking my responsibilities. Huh.

Something flashed in the corner of my eye. The light was back. My cousin standing at the corner, inching to with eyes glued to the TV.

A thump had caught his attention. His favorite controller was on the bed next to me.

“Are you going to play or not?”

Giggles sent the flickering light into a beam. The game turned the beam into a star. It was my job to keep his light strong. And in return, he helped me find the light I had lost.