The nights were the worst. Nights were when everything went still and silent. Nights were when she felt her sister's absence the most. Nights were when she knew she was truly alone in the world, now. Nights were when Natara fell victim to the nightmares, worse than she could have ever imagined.

Days were strange, too. it was as if the world had been turned inside out. Everything was the same size and shape, but wrong somehow. Mal and Kai and Amy no longer had the same effect on her that they used to. Although her body performed just the same as it had before, her mind wandered to the emptiness in her heart. over and over, she imagined her little sister, slaughtered like cattle and then trapped forever underground. Natara had been adamant that they didn't bury Neha; but, of course, she wasn't listened to.

And so, with Neha's funeral, Natara folded her memory as gently as she could, wrapped it in the layers of emotion- joy, love, commitment- for which she no longer had need, and locked the whole thing deep inside her. She felt oddly light, but it felt right, being empty of such memories and emotions. Because without her sister, Natara was half a person. Like a room robbed of light, her heart was cold, dark and empty.

When did the idea first come to her? Later, Natara could never be sure. There was nothing different about the day in question. She had simply gone shopping. She had been in the hair aisle, browsing through various shampoos and conditioners, when her eyes fell on the dyes. One in particular caught her gaze. Royal blue. Just the color of the streak in Neha's hair. She couldn't remember what possessed her to put it in her cart and hurry to the check-out line.

She went home and pulled on her only pair of jeans and a cami. She took a strip in her hair to dye- the exact same spot as Neha's- and rinsed it out after an hour. She looked in the mirror, really looked. A tan face stared back, one she'd seen her entire life. Long black hair with a new blue streak, hazel eyes, dark, arching brows.

Without letting ehr gaze slip, Natara picked up a pair of scissors she'd found in the drawer and held her hair out to the side. The rope of her hair was thick, and she had to hack through it. Finally, it dropped into her hand. No longer stretched taut, the hair on her head fell loose, shaggy around her face. She continued to cut until it was the same length that Neha's had been, and placed the necklace Neha had always worn around her own neck.

They were sisters, it was little surprise that they should look so similar, and yet Natara drew a breath. She turned her head this way and that, her new short hair swishing around the base of her throat. She reached out to touch the cold glass of the mirror, no longer alone.

She smiled, very slightly.

Neha smiled back.