First Post/Not sure if I'm doing this right

[dancendark.livejournal.com]

There was a crack in the plaster in the corner of his room. Regulus hadn’t noticed it at first, hadn’t really felt that he had the time to notice what should have been an inconsequential piece of information, but now it was bothering him. The crack was down at the corner of his bed, well below eye level but he could see it when he laid down and he could definitely see it now. The paint chips beveled up like a face and if he crossed his eyes he could swear that it was Cygnus—old Black blood that had been long ago carved into his post boards at home.

He had hated his bed at home. It had been carved into a family tree, lacquered with thick red wood polish that made his nose itch, and had always felt a little too big.

The paint chips moved. He swore they did--and then it didn't matter if he was thirteen years old and far too old to be afraid of cracks in the wall or the ghastly carvings on his bed.

Regulus fell out of bed and threw himself out into the hallway.