Maddie walked into the guest bedroom, having too much dread of the cultures growing in her own. The house seemed eerily empty and she found herself wanting to blast the TV or a radio just to get some noise.

She sighed and climbed onto the bed. She felt alone. Usually she liked the feeling, but now it seemed utter and complete.

Maddie sat up. “I will not be depressed,” she insisted, an image of herself in bed wrinkled clothing and drooping eyelids flashing through her mind. She immediatley shook it away, looking around the room aimlessly, her eyes finally falling on the vanity. A piece of paper lay atop it. Shrugging, Maddie picked it up.

Always running somewhere;
Doesn’t mean that I don’t care.
And as far away as I may seem,
I’ll always be there when you dream.

The poem wasn’t signed, but Maddie knew who it was from. She looked at the piece of paper and smiled. “Thank you, Isaac,” she whispered.