A small girl sat in a room of white walls, gray bed and a peeping machine that would sound at her slightest movement. She layed in her bed staring out to the stars as tiny drops fell from her eyes. Mama said she would be fine. Papa cried when he saw her in bed. When her once long hazelnut hair began to fall she cried. Mama once said if she was hurting to look at; at the stars because they would smile down at her. Papa said the the stars are where the special go when they went to sleep forever. The small girl smiled softly as she raised her tiny hand to the star when a line when flat. One last tiny drop as new star lit the dark sky.
