Lost child

Light gently shattered against the wall, painting a rainbow over the happy bears. The noise tap danced on nerves and was ice cream to sensitive teeth. The night crept back like a hungry kicked dog. All was peaceful once again. 
Dreams of a different past were twisting the memories of a sleeper in bed. She saw her friends walking home under a carpet in the sky, walking until one by one they turned to sand and fell to the sugar beach. She dreamed the dreams, oblivious to the world and everything in it. 
Slowly, so very slowly, the past was removed from the present. Trapped smiles were thrown away, the joy of yesterday put in a bag. What was taken had no worth, unless it was to the sleeper. Photographs, drawings from the fridge door, an untidy letter to dear mummy. The black bag was tied.
The dreamer, now walking in a warm place full of light, heard music from long ago. The sad strings pulled her thoughts like a loose tooth, pain to be tested and yet endured. Heartbeat skittered faster, suddenly the light place was dark and she was being chased. The orchestra of thoughts had fallen silent. 
The most precious thing was taken. It took no longer than sunset, one moment there the next gone. The light of a certain world taken by the night of another. The room was quiet for the night, sleeping a dreamless sleep. No chorus of birds awoke the rooms that morning. A far more terrible alarm was raised, the screams of a lost child.