[i]I'm dozing off, but then I feel her crawl into bed. She slides in close, curling up like she always does. I instinctively roll on my side, wrapping both arms around her. She snuggles in quietly, without a sound, digging her head into my chest and folding her arms around my abdomen. I move one hand up to her head, stroking her soft, blonde hair. It's still damp from her shower, but she's dried it off as much as she could. She breaths slowly, barely moving. She's calm; relaxed; happy; she feels safe. A warm feeling erupts from my heart when I imagine her face in my mind. It's smooth; beautiful; perfect. "Damn," I tell myself, "you did good; you did good." She's mine. My baby girl. My own flesh and blood. I love her and she loves me, it's a mutual feeling, and we both know it. She's mine, all mine. No one can hurt you, no one can touch her, no one can make her feel sad. It's a perfect moment... wrapped up in my arms... warm; comfortable; relaxed; safe.[/i]

"Maybe I should try sleeping in my own room tonight, daddy," she says. Her voice is soft and quiet, sweet and innocent, and it weakens me because I know it brings out the sensitive side of me. At first I want to tell her "no," but I can't just blatantly deny her wishes. I close my eyes and hug her tighter before finally letting her go and answering her question:

"Sure, baby girl, do whatever you want to do." She kisses me on my cheek, and even though it's to dark to see I know she's smiling. She tells me "thank you" and walks out of the door, down the hall, to her own room.

It's hard for me to sleep. I know she's there, in her own room, but I can't see her. I can't feel her. I can't hear her. I feel sad, lonely, unsafe. I'm worried, on edge, and I start to stress out. I can't sleep. Not like this. The dark silence in the room would offer anyone else an opportune moment to catch some rest. But not me. I miss her gentle breathing, the warmth of her body, the smooth silkiness of her hair. I miss my daughter, and she's only a few yards down the hall. I can't take it! I need to see her!

I quickly throw the sheets off of my body and head to my door. I opened it and it creaks. Her door is slightly cracked. I push it open... she's not there. The sheets are rambled as if she's been there, but she's not there. Her own room.

Curious, I ramble around the living room. The kitchen. The dining room. No one. Then I hear another creak, but it's not me. It;s the front door. It's open! The wind must have re-opened it! "Ellie," I yell. "Ellie?" Not a sound. I start to panic, my heart races; my breathing out of whack.

"SKEERT!" A loud sound rings in from outside, and I rush out to see what it is. Just a car, speeding off into the night.I yell out "Ellie!" I can hear a yell but I can't make out what it was, but I know it's her! It's my Ellie, my daughter, and she's crying out for me!