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Dark missed those times.
The times she and Cho spent together. It didn't matter if it was anything big, like getting a new house, or the smaller bits, like the drowsy mornings that they spent in a tired silence, toying with the food that she made. (Cho would burn the kitchen.)
Then the few nights when it was way past bedtime, but neither of them were sleepy, so, agreeing that sleep was for the weak, they talked for hours on end.
And the times where Dark was scared of storms with lightning and thunder, so the elder had to go comfort a crying child by the window.
The days where they were racing, running from one end of the forest to a huge tree somewhere in the middle, the younger cackling at every win. Or when they trudged silently through the woods, pretending they were adventurers going somewhere no-one had ever stepped foot in.
And that one time the younger got lost, and ended up finding a lovely glade with a river running through. They built a little swing there, and it soon became their little secret spot, where they would go if the house felt like captivity.
The times the younger tried counting every single one of the twinkling stars, to prove it was not impossible, still failing miserably.
That one time the younger was too tired, so the older had to carry her on his back.
The times that the swing turned into a boat, and the younger was the captain, the older the helmsman.
The day a snake snuck into their house, and the older accidentally killed it, scared for his sisters safety.
When they went to the beach and made sandcastles.
The day she found out he had arachnophobia.
The times they spent reading.
The time they doodled on random books.
When they had pillow fights.
The times where they were just…. there, enjoying each other's presence.
The life she once had.
The moments, the joy, the feelings, the love they once shared.
All into dust.
Because of her.
But those times held a special place in her heart.
Those were the times, no matter how small, the times she truly felt whole. Those were the days she held so dearly close to her. Those were the days her heart ached to have back, the days she missed so much, reaching for them but failing, and falling deeper into the darkness.
Now Dark lay there, in a small cave, gazing at the little wooden swing she and Cho made so long ago. It was still in good condition, but she didn't feel like swinging. It reminded her too much of the time she spent with him. Nostalgia. She hated it. It served no purpose other than to remind her she was getting older, and the world had changed.
And she hated herself more for losing everything she had.
She could have had a purpose, a life, a brother.
But she just had to throw it all away.
…
Dark missed those times.