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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item.php/item_id/2073932-Fallen-Stars
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · History · #2073932
Long-lost sisters
Sister! You're back! At least, we can see each other, talk to each other again. I missed you so much!

It's been too long, my dear sister. Now I can finally see you, flying high as ever, bearing the humans in your care safely through their wonderful journeys.

I have missed you, sister. Everyone has. The world was devastated by your loss. I don't think you and your children ever realized how much you were loved.

Because they miss us? That's not love. Love would have been protecting us, or at least them, not grieving once it was far too late. The living deserve better than the dead.

You do have a point. I don't think they've learned in the years since you left us. There is another one of us now, a brother. They keep going ahead as they always have, reckless, dangerous, even though they now know better.

They always have. I can tell they've benefited from my death. They never had to choke down their pride, everyone cares so much more, they can ask for whatever they need-

When did you get to be so cynical? You're still supposed to be the young, loving one, shining like the sun, leading the younger ones in our strange world...

I'm cynical? I died, have you forgotten? That does things to you. And sometimes, you can see the future, but you still can't do a thing about it. I'm at the gates right now

What are you looking at?

You, your seven beautiful children, and the humans. I would warn you, but there's no point, really.

Then why are you even talking?

Then why are you even talking? You're not helping. Just be quiet.

I do not know, sister, but I cannot sit idly by and watch you and your children meet the same fate I and mine met so long ago. But you're right. I should stop talking if I cannot help.

Sister, you had something you were trying to tell me. Something important.

There's a problem. Almost when I had mine. Smaller, less visible. No less destructive. The humans know. Your children do not. You do not. What you don't know can kill you.

Why me? Dumb question. If it had to be someone, why not me?

Same reason it was me, stupid. No reason it wouldn't be.

Change the subject, why don't you? I'd rather die happy.

Tell me about your children.

Seven and beautiful. So much like yours. They're older, and only three of them have done this before. The commander, the flyer, the healer, the instructor, the learner, the recorder, the stranger,

Perhaps they'll be friends.

Too soon.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

For what it's worth, I'll probably be sorrier. My children and I. What about the humans?

Some of them will be sorry. Some angry. Most angry. The liars, the concealers, the betrayers, who exactly will feel what? Even they don't know. Maybe they will never know.

It's time. We're ready to come back. My children are ready to go home.

They have no bloody idea, do they?

Will you stop doing that? Save it for once I'm gone, if you must. Let me die in peace, if I must.

Very well. I'll see you on the other side.

I'm heading in now. Better or worse, it's too late for any help now. We must do this.

You have some of the best with you. I'm sorry.

Just like deja vu all over again.

You can say that again.

Just like- uh oh.

Talk to me.

Maybe I can handle it. There's something wrong with my wing.

At least you have two.

Not helpful. You really aren't helping, at all.

My children are starting to realize what's wrong. They're talking to the humans on the ground. They'll work something out, right? They can deal with this.

It's too late in the day for you to not understand. It's too late for a lot of things.

I'm sorry.

For what? You're the one who's about to die.

For everything I ever said about you. I can understand, now. You're bitter, you're angry. You have every right to be.

Shut up and fly.

I'm trying, I'm trying. Not going to make much difference, anymore. It's far too late. But I'm not going out without a fight.

Just like me, huh? I am proud of you and yours. We'll be waiting.

You've been waiting for seventeen years and four days, haven't you?

One can hope one is the last, even if one knows otherwise.

My children are terrified, trying to survive, but I think they know. This is the end. Farewell, cruel world. I hate you.

Maybe leaving it is not such a bad thing, after all.

...they're gone.

Welcome, sister. It's nice to not be alone.

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