Little Demons (ON HOLD)

A Birthday Party (Part 1)

The red-orange orb that is the Sun peeked above the horizon, heralding the beginning of a new day. As it gained altitude, it began to illuminate streaks of cloud, which glistened golden and yellow in the sunlight.

Sixteen-year-old George Spearitt awoke, finding himself sprawled over his textbooks and notes. He tutted to himself: he'd pulled an all-nighter again. The semester exams were just around the corner, and he needed some time for preparation. Unfortunately, his sleeping time had to be sacrificed to facilitate this.

George sat up straight at his desk, absent-mindedly rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands, then stretching his arms out and opening his mouth in a lion's yawn. He took a moment to collect his thoughts. They turned to the date.

He struggled with his eyes, still trying to calibrate themselves in the blinding light from the desk lamp after hours of black nothingness, to look at the calendar hanging above his cluttered desk. He had bought the calendar at the start of the year so that he could document important events or exams. He picked up a marker, crossed off yesterday's date, and looked at the box marking that of today.

28th June.

It took a few moments to click in his mind that today was an important day.

His little sister's tenth birthday.

Another few seconds passed, and he realised something else.

He'd forgotten to get her a present.

Suddenly, he snapped back to full alertness. In a panic, he frantically thought of what to get her. He looked at the clock.

6 am.

George had a habit of waking up early in the morning. It had been ingrained into him by his mother ever since he was a small boy. Every morning, a towering maternal figure would crash through the door, rudely interrupting his peaceful slumber by thereafter literally dragging him out of bed. Determined to prevent such humiliation in future, he had since then woken up at six o'clock sharp, much to the satisfaction of his mother.

He sighed in relief. Camilla Spearitt wasn't nearly as strict to Iris as she was to him at her age, so Iris would still be asleep for a while yet. Also, it was her birthday, and the weekend to boot.

He decided he'd go to the shops to purchase a gift for his beloved sister. As most in Kilawarra were morning-people - except, of course, his little sister - the shops in the town centre would most likely be open by now. After grabbing some cash from his money-box and attaching his sleek, black helmet to his head, flattening his wavy, red hair, George pushed off on his bike towards the town centre.

Kilawarra is a little town tucked away in the northwest reaches of Australia. It has a small population, but a close-knit one. Everyone knows everyone else's names, and everyone helps one another. George thought it was a good thing that his hometown only had about a hundred people living in it. It still had the charm of a tiny country town in the middle of nowhere. Kilawarra was close to the sea, and was fed by a small river which ended in a large lake at the eastern end of the town.

George mentally patted himself on the back as it turned out his calculations were correct: the shops were open for business.

He only had one of them on his mind: the arts and crafts store.

George pushed the door open. As he did, he heard a little ting-a-ling from a bell rigged such that it would ring every time the door opened. It caught the attention of the store's attendant and owner, Mr Coulianos.

"Mornin', George," he said. "Lookin' for somethin' for Iris' birthday?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," the boy replied, marvelling at the older man's excellent memory.