Whilst Steven Rogers was fixated on finding his best friend, he had overlooked the signs to find his sister.
Amara had spent decades confined to darkness, lost in time. Now she must find her footing in the light and hope not to be left blinded.
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Sleep was the one thing Amara was afraid of.
The idea of doing nothing for hours, being vulnerable, being alone, that shouldn't come naturally to people. Or at least that's what she thought. Sleep was dangerous, no one knew when you'd wake up. No one knew if you'd wake up. But still there was always a blind trust given to sleep.
People who had faith didn't mind to succumb to its uncertainty. Amara had lost faith long before she considered sleep a threat. But now, whilst she sat in the darkness fighting it's grip, sleep felt like the most dangerous thing out there.
➿➿➿
"Hello little one." A low voice filtered into the stale air, darkness shrouding their frame until their body was nothing but a shadow. Amara shuffled forward, eyes already accustomed to the dreariness of her room. Light was a gift she did not own. But Amara didn't mind, how could she miss something she was sure she had never truly seen.
"You've not slept." The man within the shadows hummed, tone void of concern. Still Amara found it comforting, yearning to edge closer to the man who called himself her carer.
"I don't feel tired." Her voice cracked, each syllable disjointed and dismembered through the scratchiness nestled within her throat. Silence fell into the air as footsteps crept toward her, disregarding the known warning to stay far away from her.
"Do not lie."
Before the frail girl could retort, the glint of a needle flickered through the dark, sending her mute. The brightness in her eyes faded as Amara realised why her carer had come to comfort her.
No. He hadn't come to comfort her. She needed to remember. He had come to-
a sharp scratch froze her thoughts as she glanced up through her tears. Gulps and cries swallowed the room in bouts of fear, soon followed by the uncontrollable convulsions that spread across her body. A gentle hand suffocated the fear as Amara was pulled towards a chest.
"Hush now little one." His voice was soothing as he rocked her back and forth, waiting for the sleep to finally consume her.
"I don't want to sleep again." She whispered through her whines, begging for the damage to be undone. Of course it was too late.
"Please don't leave me alone for that long again." Amara continued, each word strained with tears. Nothing would help. Nothing would matter. Not when they forced her asleep again.
"We will wake you when we need you, little one. Not a moment later."
But when would that be? Another 10 years? 50? How much time had already passed?
➿➿➿
Bright light. Too bright. Amara hadn't seen such light before. When she normally woke up she would already be in her room, comforted by the way each shadow would curl around her frame in affection. But this time she had woken up to light.
It was there Amara decided she hated it's brightness. Why would someone want to see every corner and crevice of a room. Why would someone want to be blinded by it? This was a new blindness, an excruciating blindness. Of what she remembered of light, it was meant to help you see. To guide the way. Amara remembered someone telling her that.
No matter where you are, no matter how dark it seems. Light a match and let it guide you back home.
It seemed stupid now, unfamiliar words spoken by an unfamiliar voice. Hadn't they realised, darkness let you hide? Out here, amongst all of the light, Amara felt too exposed.
Finally her eyes focused. Colours began to form shapes. Objects became more prominent. The man in front of her was suddenly consuming her view. This man was not familiar, not a carer nor a comrade. This man was a stranger, and yet his expression was filled with nothing but familiarity.
"Mari?" His voice was scarce, as if a single word would make her dissipate into nothing. He looked concerned, horrified at the thought of her standing there. Why would he be so shocked? To her he was nothing other than a new face. A new person to hurt her.
"Mari?" She mimicked his words, tasting how they felt on her tongue. Suddenly the horror in his expression was amplified, the reality finally sinking in. His blonde hair stood a bit straighter, blue eyes seemingly softer, all because she had repeated him with curiosity.
Suddenly Steven Rogers was filled with guilt. Too focused on finding his best friend, he hadn't noticed her. Amara Francesca Barnes. Another soul lost in time.
