Into the dark.

We didn't expect the light to go out.

I mean, it'd burned so long. You know? Sometimes when a thing is around a long time, you forget that there could be a day when it's gone. It's always around.
Right?

So when the light went out, it took us quite a while to figure out what was actually missing.

"Is there an eclipse?"

"Be serious... maybe there's a cloud over the sun."

"Maybe a bulb blew out in the kitchen?"

We were three rooms down from the kitchen. It was that subtle.

Until it wasn't.

"Wait a second... was that...?"

"Yeah. I think so..."

"But... really? Like, really?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

And that was that. We were alone with ourselves for the first time ever.

Ever.

Hours passed.

"How long have we known each other?"

"Long time, Pek. Since the '90s." She was my favorite version of herself, after the tattoo but before the trauma. Her hair was dark and down, same as mine. But hers was better; she was always the best version of us both.

"And how long has... has..."

"Same."

She couldn't bring herself to say it, but I knew. Maybe they were conceived in the same moment; I couldn't remember a time there was one without the other.
Neither could she.

We muddled through the day, chores and not chores, babies and not babies.

Then back to the red velvet couch, the foundation of who we were. Everything, good or bad, happened around the couch. It was the cornerstone of our creation.

"So what now?"

"Nothing."

And with a glint of steel I hadn't expected, she slit her throat.

I tried to wonder when she'd found the time to pocket a kitchen knife, but I was distracted by the shimmering blackness spewing from the gash. The flow increased as the wound deepened until there was a waterfall of inky soot cascading to the floor around our feet. Shimmering, dark, and fine as graphite powder.

Her feet and hands began withering, drawing up into ankles and wrists, which shrank into knees and elbows. She was collapsing into herself, each limb sucked inward and gushed outward. Hours, hours she spewed charcoal and ink onto the velvet couch. Her torso had melted and her face caved in and with a little puff it was over.

I realized my hands were shaking, and wiped a soot-stained finger over my soot-stained face. It was a wonder I hadn't choked.

"Right? Right P-- ... oh."

And now it was just me. Alone. For the first time in... forever.