Patron Saint

She's the kind of girl to knock herself down in a night

A girl ran across my yard, barefeet moistened by the damp grass caused by my sprinkler system. She ran into the house adjacent to mine. There was the slamming of a door and a shout, "Mom? Dad? Are you home?"
Not even the echo of her own voice replied.
A few lights flipped on in the room with the window that faced mine. I tripped over an empty pizza boxed that rested on my green carpeting on my way to the window that faced hers. I spied a silhouette that seemed to dance against the dark red curtains with the force of the wind weaving in and out of the open window. Her shadow came closer and I hid, hoping she wouldn't see me spying on her. "Don't want her to think I'm a creep..."
Loud sobs echoed in my ears and I looked back through my blue-tinted window. Her profile was no longer in view. She must have fallen onto her bed. I imagined her with her knees held close to her chest, clinging to a stuffed animal she saved for moments like this.