Bellflowers. Flowers of unwavering love and devotion. Desperately devoted to the sunshine filtering through the window, dust dancing in the rays. The only window in the stuffy room.

She rests on the mattress shoved in the corner of the room; her head back peacefully, hands clasped on her chest, like a corpse in its casket. Eyes fluttering indecisively on the brink of total exhaustion. Not til' he comes home, then sleep. Should not be long until sunset.

Door creaks on ancient hinges. Muddy footprints on whining floorboards. Small, skinny hand wraps around skinnier hand. Her eyes open completely. The return of her sunshine, her devotion.

"Mommy. There's a storm in my tummy."

She repositions herself, weak bones crackling with every movement. Spine against wall, child in the hollow of her crossed legs.

"I know, baby."

"Listen, Mommy." Ear on stomach. Ribs form a tough pillow. "Hear it?"

"Now how did that thunder get in your tummy?" Giggles and embrace. Sad eyes belonging to a selfless mother.

She would do anything to get rid of the storm in his tummy. Blame the man in charge. Blame anybody. Whoever's fault it is, why is her child being punished for it. Thank god he doesn't understand. He's never been afraid of thunder. She prays one day he will forget the sound of it.

"When is daddy gonna be home?" Bright, hungry eyes and hollow cheeks.

"Tomorrow." The answer has been for years, and will be for the rest of his life.

For now, she holds him against her because that's every thing she can give him. That's all he has. Two skeletons locked in an embrace, more love than a rich man could ever know. Barefoot and filthy, stronger than any storm that's come their way. A queen and her prince in their kingdom of dust. Dust dancing in their rays of sunlight. Sunlight protecting its beloved flower.