Reflections of Mist

Bedtime story

Billy lay alone in his bed, tracing patterns on the ceiling with the light of a keyring torch.

He should have been asleep hours ago, but he wasn't.

He didn't like this bedroom. It wasn't his bedroom. It was the stupid hotels bedroom, and he didn't like it.
It was too different and that made it weird.

He wanted to go home.

But no, he wasn't allowed to yet. Because of some stupid Demons.
Stupid, stupid Demons who'd tried to stop him getting his special box.

Jokes on them. He'd gotten his special box anyway, from right under their noses, and he hadn't even had to do it himself.

His mum was going to be so proud.

Either that, or really angry that he'd risked himself by going back.

Rolling over to the right, he reached under his bed and pulled out the silver foiled box from under it, carefully plucking off the seashell-decorated lid and reaching inside.

He pulled out a book with a beautifully decorated cover, the pages clearly well used but in very good condition.
An illustrated, special edition copy of Peter Pan.

He opened the book, the small torch creating a strange half-light effect over the paper, and flicked through the pages and admiring the beautiful artwork, trying to read some of the words, and getting frustrated when he couldn't quite get them.

Flicking to the front, he found the title page, with the words 'Peter Pan' emblazoned in bold letters across the centre of the paper.

Beneath it was a message hand-written in an elegant script.
He couldn't read the words of this either, but he knew that it was, in short, wishing him a very happy fourth birthday.

Softly, he traced the word that he knew was his name, eyes studying the shape of the letters as he tried to spell them out.

"W... I...L..."

Surprisingly, I hadn't planned to do this chapter at all, I was going to do a different one, but then realized I needed to spend some time Googling something to do what I'd planned for that chapter, and hadn't done so yet. (One sentence. I'm going to have to spend time Googling something for one sentence.)

Anyway, I absolutely love this chapter.
And it proves you don't have to necessarily plan something for it to be good.