I'd been lying in the dark for three hours, waiting for William to go to sleep. It was hard to tell from under this tatty, oily green table in his kitchen but from the muffled voices and occasional thuds coming from the next room I suspected he was awake. William's been staying up later and later recently. He tells his mum it's part of being a teenager but I know it's just an excuse as Harry is now thirteen and he goes to bed just as early as he used to. I guess that's the difference between toys and humans. As the hours went by I thought about William, about how he plays with me and Harry less and less, about how he has more and more problems that me and Harry try to sort out and about how he has less care for the things, and people around him. Mostly I thought about his two murderous cats, Bea and Oaky. I never understood why humans are so fond of those sinister, evil minded animals. Maybe it's because humans never see what they get up to at night. All of these problems clouded my mind and as the muffled voices from the next room silenced and William stumbled up the stairs, I had no idea how to solve them.