She sits in her bed, hands curled around eachother, arms curled around her knees, body curled around her legs. She stares at the window, the unlatched lock, and waits, but nothing changes. She stands up and hikes up her oversized pajama bottoms, before stumbling out into the hall. She tiptoes quietly, her family sleeping in the other rooms. They don't hear her, and she reaches the living room, picking up the delicate vase filled with her brother's ashes.

She creeps back to her room, and sits on her bed, leaning against the wall and cradling the vase in her thin arms. She presses her face against the cool glass and whispers, "Kenny," before the crying starts. Her shoulders jerk forward and her chest heaves as she tries to keep her voice low, but the hiccuping sobs betray her and she finds herself weeping loudly. Her family sleeps, oblivious in their drunken stupor. She stands up suddenly.

"Guardian Angel!" She hiccups, tears streaming down her face. She pushes open the window harshly, and the icy Colorado wind comes streaming in. Delicate snowflakes lnd on her dresser beneath the windowsill.

"Where are you?" She cries. The night gives her no response, "You always always come when I'm sad." She weeps, pressing her face into the vase again. She crumples, falling to her knees in her grief.

"You always come when I'm sad. I'm so sad." The night gives her no response. The cold wind howls and a little girl waits for someone whose ashes she clings to.

The sun rises, as it often does. But her world grows no brighter.