Another sleepover. Another night of tears. We stay up, watch 'Supernatural' then sleep as the clock strikes one. Well, we try.

Scared, she clutches my hand as the pipes drip loudly and lights shine ominously through the window from outside. She closes her eyes and drifts into sleep.

It's been a long time since I held her hand, a long time since we were this close. And as the memories come flooding back, they push themselves out of my eyes in their salty liquid form.

Secretly, I wish for her to wake up, ask me what's wrong, hold me close and cuddle me to sleep, but all I can do is lay here, watching, weeping, hoping.