(no subject)

He opens his eyes to find he's lying under the bed again. He sees his daddy's legs hanging motionless over the edge of the bed. The bag he'd brought back from... where did he bring it back from? He can't quite remember; the memory is quickly dissolving like dreams often do. Regardless, the bag is for some reason sitting across the room against the wall. He can see a folded piece of white paper sticking out of one of the side pockets, and he has no trouble remembering what that is. It's the letter for Mr. Sawyer, and as he lies under the bed trying to work up the courage to crawl out and call the police, James swears to himself that, one way or another, Sawyer is going to get that letter.