Where they once sat upon the highest point of her bed overlooking the kingdom of her bedroom, they now lay unused and untouched at the bottom of a bucket of blankets.
They were her definition of comfort. She would hold them tight to her chest as she tried to fall asleep, and when that failed, and her sister was clearly restless beneath her, she would call her sister to her for a story.
They were the stars in every tale she told. They let her fly them through the city as they saved cats in tall trees and stopped fires with their water powers. They let her drag them through the jungle floor as they tried to retrieve the hidden treasure. They let her make them say cheesy lines to their romantic interest. They would do anything for her, go through any story she saw in the dark of night.
But all too soon, they could not watch over her anymore; she had officially left them behind.
They have always been with her, gone through everything with her. Even as they lay at the bottom of the bucket, forgotten but nagging at the back of her mind, they could oversee all that went on with her. They still watched her grow even though she was no longer confiding everything in them and using them to tell stories that reflected her mind.
But all too soon, they could not watch over her anymore; she had officially left them behind. They now sit at the bottom of the bucket with no one to watch over, the door never opens anymore, and her voice no longer echoes in the isolating room.
Then, when the sun is wilting, and there is an ever-present chill in the room, the door opens.
They feel her warmth before they see her. She is looking around, obviously happy to be back. She moves towards the bucket and spots the dark brown fur and smooth green that make up their skin; she digs through the basket and pulls them out for the first time since they were banished to the bucket. She holds them tight to her chest, and she is no longer a legal adult but again the girl who stayed up far too late telling stories to her little sister and making them be her stars.
Her name is called from downstairs. She sets them on her bed, deciding they have spent far too much time in the bucket, and she leaves.
They are sad to see her go so soon, but they got to hold her, and that would be enough.
She comes and goes now, but they stay on her bed yet again, watching over the kingdom of her bedroom from the highest point on her bed, which is well-loved and well-used.
