Sad Eyes

She's changed, I'm sure of it.
Or maybe it's a process, maybe it's not over.  Maybe she is changing, and this will end soon.
I can hope.
Ever since the wooden house and the house in the tree with the crooked windows faded out of our back window, the light has been fading.
It didn't happen right away, I think, but soon after.
There was at least two weeks of excitement, of happy disbelief.
But then, Sir Sadness came.  I'm not even sure he deserves that knightly title.
Sadness came. He was slow to find us but he always does and always will.  He crept in on silent feet in the darkest hour of the night, the one that comes right before dawn. But here, with the city lights it is hard to find a dark hour, so he had to be extra careful, extra sneaky.  He crept into the house and into our dreams, infiltrating slowly at first.  Those of us with strong enough minds were able to will him away, but that just left more of him for her.
He invaded her mind quickly, efficiently, leaving barely any room for her light. She began to look at us like strangers, and when she asked, "Can I go play Legos?" it came out like she was asking a random passerby the time.  This simple question used to be filled with love, with joy and childhood innocence.  Her eyes would be filled with the ideas already forming, with the magic of bringing things alive with plastic bricks.  But they seem to have slowly lost that, and when she looks at me now I see Sadness hiding there, behind her lovely green eyes, not her at all.
So I have been trying to pull her back, keep her from drowning, keep Sadness from completely overcoming her.
And little by little I see her coming back to me, and when I see her smile, her smile, not Sadness', I feel myself smiling too.