I lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, trying my best to breathe slowly. I already missed the silvery-bright nights I had had out in the desert. I hated the shadowy corners and pitch blackness. I hated the loud city noises that clawed at my window and made me flinch over and over again. Just when I was thinking that I was going to spend the whole night awake and frightened, the door opened and a sleepy Tyla walked in. Her long, messy jet-black hair half covered her face as she stumbled in. She looked for all the world like a little girl who had just woken up from a nightmare and still wasn’t sure where she was. I wondered if she was sleepwalking.

  “Tyla?” I called out softly

  “MHGAHHH!” Exclaimed the Tyla monster, flopping down next to me.

  “Alright, hang on, just let me roll over.” I scooted to make more space for her. She ignored the space and rolled over till she was directly on top of me. “Tyla, I can’t breathe.”

  “Mmmmh,” was her reply. There was a reason I had bought a room with two beds. Tyla was as loud a sleeper as she was a clingy sleeper. I thought briefly about shaking her awake and telling her to head back to her room. But I thought better of it. Soon she was happily snoring and grunting away. This made me think of all the nights that I had woken up to Connie’s sobbing. I remember carrying her in my arms up to my room and tucking her in with me. It was the only thing that would get her to fall asleep.

  It had never taken much to make Connie happy. Snuggles and lullabies were all that she wanted out of life. I guess she had just been too greedy in her desires and had had her life revoked because of that. Connie, where are you now? Sometimes I wonder if you’re up there somewhere, looking down at me, thinking about me. Do you still enjoy my songs? Do you remember Tyla? What do you think of Tyla?

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  “Gooo… ” Tyla snored more gently this time. She really sounded just like Connie when she did that. I nestled up closer to my stepsister and closed my eyes. I remember how Tyla used to sneak into my room when we were little. For about a week after Connie died, she had snuck in every night, just in case I had a bad dream. A memory came to my mind. It was a memory from home. A memory from the past.

  “Tiffany! Wake up, Tiffany! It’s important!” I sat bolt upright, fearing that the house was burning down or something of that nature.

  “Oh. Okay,” Tyla had said upon seeing that I was indeed awake.

  “What? What is it? W-what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just wanted to make sure you were asleep and not dead.” All my anger turned to guilt in an instant.

  “Oh. I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me as much as you do… really.”

  “I made you some hot chocolate… but then I drank half of it. I’m sorry. I can really see why you like that stuff so much, Tiffany.” There was indeed a mug of warm white liquid sitting on my nightstand.

  “I thought you weren’t supposed to be in the kitchen making things after five,” I said. Tyla hung her head.“

  I know. I just really wanted to make this for you. I didn’t mean to wake you up either! Y-you were just lying there so still that I thought you might be dead, and I didn’t know what to do!” Her eyes filled with tears, and she collapsed to the ground sobbing and whining. I helped her to her feet and pulled her into a hug. Why, oh why hadn’t I been more careful! If only she hadn’t seen me stabbing myself that night. I had probably hurt her for life.

  “I won’t tell Mama that you were down in the kitchen. Don’t worry,” I said to Tyla once she had calmed down a little bit.

  “Thanks!” She sobbed into my shoulder. “Do you like your drink?”

  “Yes, it tastes amazing. Thank you so much, Tyla,” I had said, kissing her forehead softly. She curled up into a tiny little ball and looked up at me, her large black eyes shining. She looked so much like little Connie that it was scary. That was the night I finally decided to trust Tyla fully. And well… I hadn’t regretted it since.