The Tiny Hero Within

Chapter 1

The Voice on the Pillow

Milo had always considered himself a perfectly ordinary kid.

He wasn't the fastest runner at school.

He wasn't the smartest kid in his class.

He couldn't fly.

He couldn't turn invisible.

And despite several very serious attempts, he had never managed to make a sandwich disappear without eating it.

So, as far as Milo was concerned, he definitely wasn't a hero.

Heroes were people in movies.

Heroes wore capes.

Heroes saved people from burning buildings.

Heroes probably didn't forget where they put their homework five minutes after finishing it.

Milo had forgotten his homework that morning.

Again.

He rolled over beneath his blanket and groaned.

"Milo!"

His mother's voice came from downstairs.

"You're going to be late!"

"I'm awake!" Milo shouted.

He wasn't.

At least, not completely.

He pulled the blanket over his head.

Five more minutes.

That was all he needed.

Five peaceful minutes.

Then he heard a tiny voice.

"Good morning!"

Milo froze.

His eyes opened.

He slowly lifted his head.

The bedroom was quiet.

Sunlight streamed through the curtains.

His backpack sat beside his desk.

His sneakers were lying in the middle of the floor.

Everything looked completely normal.

Milo blinked.

"Hello?"

Nothing.

He shrugged.

Maybe he'd imagined it.

He dropped his head back onto the pillow.

"Good morning!"

Milo sat straight up.

"Okay..."

He looked around.

"Who's there?"

Silence.

Milo narrowed his eyes.

"Mom?"

No answer.

He looked beneath his bed.

Nothing.

Inside his closet.

Nothing.

Behind the curtains.

Definitely nothing.

Then he heard a tiny voice directly beside his ear.

"Down here."

Milo slowly looked toward his pillow.

Standing on the edge of it was a tiny person.

The little stranger was perhaps six inches tall.

He wore a bright blue cape.

A tiny silver belt wrapped around his waist.

He had messy brown hair, tiny boots, and the most serious expression Milo had ever seen on such a small face.

Milo stared.

The tiny person stared back.

Neither said anything.

Finally, Milo pointed.

"Are you real?"

The tiny stranger put his hands on his hips.

"Very."

Milo blinked.

"Are you... a toy?"

"No."

"A fairy?"

"No."

"An elf?"

"No."

"A really tiny superhero?"

The little figure smiled proudly.

"Getting warmer."

Milo leaned closer.

"Then who are you?"

The tiny hero straightened his cape.

"I'm your conscience."

Milo stared at him.

Then he looked toward the bedroom door.

Then back at the tiny figure.

"You're my what?"

"Your conscience."

Milo scratched his head.

"I thought my conscience was... you know..."

He waved his hands vaguely.

"Inside me."

"It is."

Milo's eyes widened.

"So you're inside me?"

"Technically."

"Then why are you standing on my pillow?"

The tiny hero sighed.

"Because apparently you don't listen very well."

Milo opened his mouth.

Then closed it.

The tiny hero nodded.

"Exactly."

Milo pointed at him.

"Wait. Are you saying you've been talking to me this whole time?"

"Yes."

"How long?"

"Years."

Milo's jaw dropped.

"Years?!"

"Yep."

"And I've never heard you?"

"You've heard me."

"I have?"

"Every time you knew you shouldn't do something."

Milo thought about it.

The time he'd blamed his sister for breaking the lamp.

The time he'd taken the last cookie and pretended he hadn't.

The time he'd laughed when another kid fell at school.

The little voice had always been there.

You shouldn't do that.

Milo looked at the tiny hero.

"You?"

The tiny hero nodded.

"Me."

Milo stared at him.

Then he smiled.

"Honestly..."

He picked up the tiny hero between two fingers and lifted him closer.

"I thought you'd be taller."

The tiny hero gasped.

"Excuse me?"

Milo grinned.

And for the first time in his life, he realized something very important.

There was a tiny hero inside him.

And that hero had been waiting for him to listen.

But neither of them knew yet...

Just how important that was going to become. ❤️🍀