The rose garden.

Daniel was five years old and he liked being "five". He had learned how to read some words, although the shapes went backwards but he knew how to change them into the right shape. He could also paint flowers on plastic pots, but that was frustrating as the paper had to dry on the pots first. His grandfather taught him to wait, but he didn't like waiting; he wanted to see the flowers now.

Night time fell, the creepy shadows of the dark night feeding his imagination. There were so many shadows, big stretchy monsters waiting to grab him, they wanted to take him away, take him from the dark room that was so lovely when the light shined.
When the light shined he could see the roses blooming in the garden next to the bull in the field. He loved the roses but the bull was as scary as the monsters of the night; it was still dark though, only his dreams took him away from his fears.
Silently, he crept from his bed, moving the counterpane aside, hoping he wouldn't be heard. He tiptoed to the door, his tiny hands trying to turn the key. He knew it was a key as he was told it kept you safe if the door was locked. He turned it towards him, but it still entrapped him. Perplexed, he sat on the stony step that would free him. He gazed at the large door which was imprisoning him and thought of the shapes. If they went backwards, the key did too. He reached up and using both hands, freed the lock.
He could breathe again, looking up at the sky alight with tiny silver specks; a sliver of gold watching over them.
He padded barefoot across the wet grass to the rose garden next to the peas his mother liked to eat as she picked them. He cared no more, he just wanted to sleep in the rose garden and feel the beauty of all around.