AFTER VALERIE'S father had visited his daughter, Dylan was next. He walked down the hallway, the same slow-motioned feeling coursing through his body as he travelled to the designated area.

  When he finally found the room, he sat down in the chair adjacently to his wife's bed. He hated seeing her so pale. He loved her cream-colored skin. He just wanted to hear her voice.

It wasn't your fault. . . he told himself as he took her small hand. He squeezed it slightly. Kissing in-between her first and second knuckle, he rose his head up and moved strands of hair to the other side of Valerie's pillow.

"I miss you baby girl." he muttered. "I have to go now, but I just wanted to let you know that I love you." He just wanted her to wake up.

Sighing, he stood to his feet and began to walk.

…

        Dylan pounded his fist against the wheel as he drove. Why couldn't it have been him in that damn hospital room? He just wanted to crash into a streetlamp and let the electric current course through the rental vehicle so that way he could just die.

  He kept driving, and then found himself turning to a place he and Valerie went when she had first moved out here from Texas. He parked the car, and sat down on the dirt; the view overlooking the city below him. He kept his knees close to his chest, letting his mind trace back to the memory of them walking in the evening, sitting at this very spot, naming stars while talking about life, the people they missed.

~

"I'll name that one. . . John." Valerie said as she joyously pointed at one of the stars.

"You're not seriously naming that star because of a Beatle, are you?" he asked. The young woman nodded triumphantly.

"Yup!" she looked to the left, then pointed at another star. "And I'll name that one, Dylan."

"Why?" Dylan asked, completely oblivious as to why.

She turned to him with a warm toothless grin, the moonlight glowing dimly on her face. "Because I want my best friend and love of my life to be with me always."

He smiled, knowing he was the only one her heart contained. He brought her close to him, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

~

"If you can do miracles, God," Dylan began, talking to the man upstairs. "then I'm pretty sure you can wake my wife up and heal her." his eyes began to tear up and that's when the splotches of salt fell out of his tear ducts, falling on his face. He crumpled his hands together, squeezing them tight.

"Please Papa, bring her back. . ."

  He sat for a few more minutes, praying to the Father he so loved, and watched as the sky go dim. Once Dylan was through looking off into the distance and praying, he got back in his rental and drove home.

Feeling empty once more.