I dreamed of you last night. You were afraid, and I held you safe in my arms.

You must be about 12 now, on the cusp of womanhood, about to embark on a journey to discover yourself. Older and wiser perhaps. I imagine you to have thoughts and ideas of your own, perhaps a wild streak, perhaps a love and zest for life just hinted at when you were younger, now blossoming as you age.

But I can only imagine. In my dreams, in the last fragments of your existence that I possess, you'll always be a child.. frozen in time in the pages of my memory.