For about 13 years, I suppressed darkness with a veil of light, but the longer and deeper I buried the rocks, the harder they were to carry. Darkness first came knocking at eight-years-old when Caroline was ripped from my tight, loving grips. I held so much of her in my little hands: her delicate, perfectly hairsprayed blonde bangs that rested ever so lightly on her pure skin, the extra watery maple and brown sugar oatmeal she made when I was home sick, and the Lucazade, an extra fizzy orange...