What if...? Book One, Part 2: The Game Begins...(A Peter Pan rewrite, by Jae)

22- Spider Trees...

Her P.O.V.

The door shuts behind him, instantly all the anger that was begging to spew out finally does. It's hot and it burns my skin when it blasts from my hands, burning the floor and scorching the wooden furniture. Oh, how I wish it was just seconds earlier and aimed at his fucking face. God damn, if only I could've released it in front of him, burn his flesh, hurt him like he hurt K. But the reason of why I couldn't remains unknown. The fear of what he'll do is too strong, or the uncertainty of my own strength is what stops me. I don't know how to channel it when he demanded it and I certainly don't know how to channel it when it comes busting out of my hands once the door shuts.

I half shriek out from the startle but the burning bolts have their own sound of blasts. Shocked, I jump away from my own hands, sending the hot, red, almost fire-like beams of magic over the wall. When it stops I stare at my charred hands.

How did I do that?

That was like the magic from the first night...just..anger.

My skin tingles, and I'm more confused than hurt. I touch my hands together to rub them but my skin aches like my palms were just singed. My flesh looks bright pink, my finger tips burnt black as I stare in confusion at them and at how easily it came out the moment he was gone. Though what he said before he left confuses me more than it all. Even frightens me. The idea of him being unable to die sends a chill to haunt over my bones.

He's trying to strike fear into me. He wants me to believe that no matter how hard or what I try, I'll never be able to get what I want and end him. He made me feel so powerless with a statement like that, and for some wicked reason, I think I might believe him. His words are like a cruel brand in my head of an even crueler fate that I have no escape from. And all after he was nearly decent last night when he pulled Slightly from on top of me and actually made me laugh. He's psychotic. It's infuriating. I want to kill him so badly, it nearly works me up all over again.

I look at the door they walked through, closing my fists, done staring at them. The more I gawk at the ruined flesh the more my brain registers the pain so I thrust my hands down and rush at the door. Determined to follow them, find out what they're going to do to K. Guilt is beginning to wash over me now. It's my fault he was caught. I asked him to stay with me last night. He shouldn't be punished for it, he tried to leave, I stopped him. Like a heavy weight in my stomach the guilt only grows, I have to stop Pan from hurting him anymore. I have to, K doesn't deserve it.

The door allows me to pass and in an instant I'm picturing the large room that they reside in. In my long strides of nearly running the magic hums through my head, spinning me dizzy but I won't stop rushing. On my third or fourth stride I'm shifting through the tree and the balcony above the room I'm navigating to appears in front of me.

I nearly run off the stairs and fall down them. I barely catch myself from tumbling down the steps and I spot K. The others that were holding him walk beside him, Pan in front of them all leading them through the door, outside. Without wasting another breath I hurry down the stairs, ignoring the looks and whispers of the other boys about the room and the door shuts behind K. I scamper through the room and when I reach the door I yank it open but they're gone. Pan and K, the others, vanished. The door closes behind me and I look left and right. They're just gone. As if they shifted through space and now I stand in the busy camp site of a front yard not knowing what to do.

The morning breeze pushes my fallen hair strands behind my face as my eyes dart around the grounds for them. The few boys that were doing their morning chores begin to notice me, whispers and nudges to each other being exchanged. My hands come up to rub my arms over my long sleeve and I look down, feelings of helplessness and uselessness now watering down the heavy guilt. I'm not sure what to do, where to go, or who to talk to.