Nothing left

The cool pillow against the heat of your face.
The pleasant darkness with a dim light floating in from under the door.
The wet hair soaking into the pillowcase and sheets as you gently brush it straight.
The rustle of your sister stirring in her sleep.
The sound of The Fray singing songs that must have been written for you.
The heaviness of your eyelids as they resist the desire to sleep.
The knowledge of having to wake up in only six hours.
The notions, ideas, and previous statements that are thought about until you know longer know what to think.
And finally, the realization that sadly the tears just will not come.