It was late at night, and Billy couldn't sleep. It wasn't a surprise, however. He knew that he shouldn't have taken such a long nap in the evening before bed, but he had had nothing else to do.

Of course, he could have gave in and played with Clara. Billy pushed the thought away as soon as it entered his mind, still feeling guilty about how he had treated her and hated to admit it. She was just his annoying little sister, anyway. Shouldn't she know by now that nine-year old boys were too old to play silly games? Besides, her love of princesses was starting to annoy Billy. He would never want to find himself playing a princess game.

Even as he was thinking these thoughts, the sight of Clara tearing up and running out of his room had become a fixed image in his mind, and it lead him to wonder how sad she must have been, and before he knew it, the guilt had returned to him.

It was just then, that Billy noticed the princess doll Clara had left on his bed. It was lying at the foot of the bed, squished into the mattress and almost barely visible. Billy could have gone through the whole night and even days after without noticing that it was there, that silly doll with the curly brown hair and golden felt tiara sewed to the top of her head.

He figured he would return the doll to Clara in the morning. She was probably sleeping at this time of night after all.

Billy had thought wrong, though, and he knew it as soon as he had heard a light knock on his door, so soft that he wasn't sure if it had just been in his imagination or not.

"Billy?" A tiny voice called out timidly. "Can I come in?"

Billy didn't want to be grumpy with his little sister anymore. He would be nice and patient, just as his mother told him to be.

"Yeah, Clara. You left your doll in here." He replied.

"I know. That's why I came." Clara reasoned after opening the door and entering the room. Her eyes lit up at the sight of Billy holding up her beloved doll from his bed.

"Peggy!" Clara cheered.

"Peggy? I thought her name was Trisha last week." Billy stifled a laugh, amused by how often Clara changed the name of her doll. It was something she did a lot with her other dolls and stuffed animals as well, and it was always interesting to see what names she would come up with next.

"Thank you, Billy! I thought she was lost forever and ever." Clara hugged her doll tightly after taking it from Billy.

Then, after her relief had faded away, she looked up at her brother with worried eyes.

"Billy? Are you still mad at me?"

Billy paused, hearing how sad Clara sounded and feeling guilty, as he tried to find the right words to say to her.

"No, I'm not." He said shortly.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not mad anymore."

"That's great! We can play together now." Clara cheered joyfully, and Billy was surprised for a minute, not expecting that reaction.

"Wait, I never said that we would-"

"We can play royal princess together, and we can both live in a giant castle with a stable for the ponies and-"

"Clara! Listen to me!" Billy raised his voice, his patience already leaving him, and Clara stopped talking.

"It's night time, Clara. You have to be asleep, so we can't play right now." Billy explained to Clara as calmly as he could.

"So we can play tomorrow?"

"Maybe...er...I don't know."

Clara sighed in disappointment. "But 'maybe' is just another word for 'no'."

"How do you know that?"

"Because, every time you say 'maybe', you never play with me." Clara rolled her eyes, before adding, "How many times do I have to tell you that you never play with me anymore?"

"Clara, I don't want to play games anymore. I'm older now and all that stuff is for little kids." Billy rolled his eyes back at her, and then added mockingly, "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to play anymore?"

Once again, Billy was losing his patience. He had thought that he wouldn't, but Clara was driving him up the wall. Why couldn't she make things simple for the both of them and take no for an answer?

"Is it because you're broken, Billy?" Clara had asked him after a short pause, looking away.

"Huh?"

"You're broken." She pointed to his legs in those plain white casts that he hated. "And that's why you don't want to play with me anymore."

Billy thought about what she has said for a minute, and as soon as he started to see some truth in what his little sister had told him, he changed the subject.

"Look, if you really want to play princesses, there's a book over there all about them." He gestured towards the book on his nightstand that he had neglected ever since the day he received it. It had just come to mind, and he knew that it would most likely do good in keeping Clara distracted.

It worked. As soon as Clara had heard the word "princess", she darted over to the nightstand and picked the book up, opening it to the first page where she marveled at the princess pictured there.

"It really is a princess book! And she has a pink dress like Peggy does!"

"Yes, so you read that book while I go back to sleep." Billy instructed, yawning.

Clara didn't appear to be listening, focused on the pages she kept turning while admiring the pictures and ignoring blocks of words that she couldn't read.

"That's not a princess." She frowned at one page, and then showed it to Billy, who was laying on his back and trying to keep his eyes closed.

"Look Billy, she's not a princess. She has a boring brown dress on and no tiara."

Billy opened his eyes briefly, glancing at the picture of the girl that Clara didn't see as a princess. She was right, the girl pictured looked like nothing more than a villager with the clothes she was wearing.

"Yes, she's not. Now leave me alone, I'm trying to sleep."

"A princess has to have a pink dress, a tiara, and long, pretty hair." Clara informed Billy matter-of-factly.

"Mm-hm."

"And the prince! That's the prince right there! He's going to save the princess! Look, Billy! He has a crown too!"

"Clara, I'm trying to sleep! Can't you take that to your room or something?" Billy blurted out in annoyance.

But Clara did not listen. She set the book down on Billy's bed, leaving it on the page where a handsome prince was illustrated, holding the hand of the princess that Clara loved so much. She started to skip and dance around the bedroom, singing happily about princesses.

"Clara! It's bedtime, why are you running around?"

"I'm a princess, Billy! Look!" Clara twirled and skipped around the room, and showed absolutely no sign of stopping, even when Billy told her to.

Billy rolled his eyes and made a sarcastic comment. "Yeah, you're totally a princess. You're weird and silly just like they are."

Clara sighed at Billy, finally stopping and looking at him sadly. "You never let me be a princess, Billy."

The sad look from his sister had prevented Billy from saying anything mean, although he had wanted to. Instead, he sighed and began to think of something quiet that would entertain Clara and allow him to get some rest.

He looked over at the princess book that Clara had left open on the floor, and the idea had came to him.

"Clara, do you want to read the princess book to me? You can read it to me until I fall asleep."

Clara's sad eyes were now lit up with excitement. "Yes, Billy! Yes, yes, yes!"

Then, her excitement faltered when she realized something important.

"But...I can't read very well, Billy. I can only read little words. This book has big words in it."

"I'm sure you'll be fine. Just try your best." Billy answered simply, already closing his eyes and preparing to fall asleep.

"Well...okay." Clara shrugged and picked up the book, sitting on the bed next to Billy, accidentally touching his left leg.

"Ouch!" Billy cried out suddenly, startling Clara. When she realized what she had done, her eyes widened with fear.

"Oh no! Are you okay Billy? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your leg!" Clara said quickly.

"Ugh, I'm fine, just be more careful next time. You know that it's really easy to hurt my legs because-"

"Because you're broken, Billy. When will you not be broken anymore?" Clara interrupted.

"I don't know, Clara. It'll be a while, I can tell you that."

"Well, I'll read you the story, and it'll help you get better faster. But you have to listen, Billy." Clara advised. "It'll work like magic. Do you believe in magic, Billy?"

"Ugh, no. That stuff's only in fairy stories."

Clara rolled her eyes. "That's what everyone says to me. Even the kids at school. They don't believe in the tooth fairy, the Easter bunny, not even Santa Claus! How can you not believe in Santa when he leaves you gifts every Christmas?"

"Clara, when you get older, like me, you'll learn that magic isn't real, and that princesses are silly."

Clara looked down, trying to hide her eyes that were already beginning to pool with tears. Billy noticed, however, and a wave of guilt came over him. What was it going to take for him not to make Clara cry? He couldn't say that he liked to upset his sister, but how else would she learn to take no for an answer? How else would she realize that he just didn't like all the things that she liked? Her silly princesses with their poofy dresses and the childish belief in magic? But he remembered his mother's words, how this was supposedly just apart of growing up, and even so, he should be kind to his sister.

But before Billy could try to offer her some comforting words, Clara grabbed the book forcefully and stomped over to the door.

"Clara? Wh-where are you going?" Billy asked, confused.

"Back to my room." She huffed. "I don't want to read to you anymore. All you do is make fun of me."

"What? W-wait, no I don't. I don't!" Billy stuttered, trying to get his words out quickly before Clara would leave the room.

"Yes you do." Clara sniffled, tears just beginning to fall from her innocent blue eyes. "You say that princesses are for little girls like me. And that they're silly. You're mean to me, Billy. You never let me be a princess."

Before Billy could think of something to say back, Clara had left the room and closed the door quietly behind her, even through her sadness still mindful that her mother was sleeping and shouldn't be awakened by the slamming of a door.

Billy sighed, knowing that it was useless to go after her. Well, he couldn't go after her anyway. But even if he could, what would he say? In situations like these he believed it best to just let Clara go back to bed, wake up, and forget that anything had happened that night.

As Billy was just about to close his eyes and go to sleep, he heard the faintest sound coming from the outside of his bedroom door. It sounded almost like wind chimes at first, an angelic and soothing sound that calmed Billy. He liked the sound, but he wondered where on earth it was coming from. It couldn't be from outside, it was most definitely in the house, and right outside of his bedroom door.

The beautiful chimes continued, and Billy was starting to identify a sort of melody. Music. There was music playing outside his bedroom door.

"Clara?" He called out, almost deliriously. "Clara, are you playing music...?"

Nothing was heard but giggling from outside. The chimes continued in a harmonious melody, a melody that almost sounded sad, but was overall calming and seemed to want to lull Billy into a blissful slumber.

"Clara...?" He called out again as the chimes continued, this being his last call before he went into a dreamlike trance as the soft and soothing music had overcame him, and all he could focus on was the sorrowful melody that willed to sing him to sleep, and he would allow it to; just as he did when he was an infant and listened to soft lullabies to fall asleep.

He closed his eyes as the chimes filled his ears, and before he knew it, he was blind to his bedroom and everything in it.