**Rating: M - it contains adult themes
Davy woke with a start, sweat beading down his face. Ever since he had heard from his family last week, he had been having a recurring nightmare that he used to when he was a child.
He looked over to Peter's bed. He was already up. Davy got out of bed, even though it was just before seven am. Going to the bathroom, he ran his fingers through his damp hair and pulled on some jeans and a shirt.
"Good morning David. You're up early." Peter said cheerfully.
"Morning Pete. Couldn't sleep."
"You wanna talk about it?" Peter asked thoughtfully. He had seen Davy tossing in his sleep and was a little worried.
"Nah, I'll be ok. Think I'll take a walk on the beach."
"Ok. Breakfast'll be ready in an hour."
Davy strolled out through the patio door and onto the beach. He plunged his hands into his pocket and sighed.
Just then he saw a small figure up ahead, walking along the shoreline. His first thought that it was a child, but it couldn't be at this hour, all alone. Could it?
As he neared the person he discovered that it was indeed a child. A little girl who looked no older than five was wandering along the beach, bucket clutched in one hand, and a shell in the other. Davy watched as she placed the shell in her red bucket and then bend over to pick up another.
"Hey, little girl." Davy spoke to her. The girl looked up at him and smiled cheerfully. "What are you doing here all alone? Where's your Mummy and Daddy?"
"Daddy took Mommy to the hostable. I'm getting some shells for her present."
"Is Mummy having a baby?" Davy asked, curiously.
"No. Mommy was sad." she said innocently.
"She was sad? Why did she need to go to hospital then?"
"She cut herself." she stated matter of factly.
Davy gaped at the girl. She didn't seem fazed at all. It sounded as though it was a normal thing. He was speechless. Davy had no idea what to say to the girl. He was shaken.
"Do you cut yourself when you're sad?" The girl asked suddenly.
"Uh, no! I don't."
"Why?"
"Why? Uh, because, because, people don't usually cut themselves when they feel sad."
"Why not?"
"Because it, uh, makes you sick." Davy said. He was struggling to think of answers.
"What do you do when you're sad?" she asked.
"Me? Well, I don't know... I suppose I talk about it with my friends." Realization suddenly hit Davy. He was feeling down, and Peter offered to talk.
Lost in thought, it took a moment to notice that someone was calling out a name. It wasn't his name though. It was longer. He looked down, expecting to see the girl there, but she was gone. Confused he turned around in a circle to try and see her.
She was behind him, running towards a man. It must have been the father. Davy didn't get to find out though, because he turned round and took her home.
Home. Davy quickly made his way back to the beach house, hoping Peter was still alone. He was.
"Enjoy your walk Davy?" Peter asked.
"Yeah, I did. Listen, can we talk?"