'I reckon the treasure is here,' my brother said as we sat on the ground. We had our buckets and spades. The dirt was soft as we started to dig.
'If we find lots of treasure, what will we spend it on?' I asked, flicking the mud behind me.
'A new bike for you because yours was stolen. A car for dad and some nice clothes for mum,' my brother replied, filling his bucket and then emptying it at the side of the hole.
As the hole got bigger, the dirt got everywhere and the sun beat down on us. I suddenly realised that my brother had missed himself out on the treasure list.
'What about you?' I asked, putting my spade down to rest.
'I'd just like everyone else to be happy,' he whispered.
My brother would ask me to tell him stories and the happy endings were always our favourite. Dreams were always realised and we all lived happily ever after. Now, I'm living my dream and my early days inspired my writing. What did you dream of when you were young?