Never Moon

part 6

"The difference between him and the other boys at such a time was that they knew it was make-believe, while to him [Peter ] make-believe and true were exactly the same thing."

Peter Pan, "The Little House." 

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Nighttime fell rather quickly on the island, Char noticed.

Or maybe the day had gone sooner than she'd anticipated.

Whichever it was — nighttime fell fast, or daytime receded too soon — darkness swept over Neverland, turning the shadows cast by the trees even darker, and rendering all the gray colors silver.

It would be quite pretty, actually, if Char wasn't terrified. Something evil had woken as night had fallen. Something dark and dangerous, and not the least bit friendly.

Peter seemed to sense it, and he tugged Char along faster, his fingers never leaving hers. His other hand, she noted nervously, rested on the dagger on his hip.

Were they expecting an attack?

Char's fears, while childish in the way she experienced them, were very, frighteningly real. And they originated from the island.

The moon shone brightly down on them as they neared Peter's destination. Char's shadow flickered over the treetops below her, working with Peter's shadow to fight off those who wanted to bring the children down.

"Here," Peter said, breaking the deafening silence that pressed down on them. He tugged Char to a halt. "Wendy, down here."

Char looked down, seeing nothing but trees. She gripped Peter's hand tighter. "I don't see anything," she replied quietly. "Wait, what am I looking for?"

He scoffed. "Stupid," he said arrogantly. "Look there." He pointed to a dead-looking tree with several lengths of frayed rope hanging off of it, most tied off with loops that swayed in the wind.

"Hangman's Tree," Char said, remembering the book and the movie and all of the tales in between, all of them detailing Peter's infamous hideout in the dead tree. "Were people actually hanged there, Peter?"

Peter just cackled, his face lit by the moon. He let go of Char's hand. She, caught unawares, dropped several feet like a stone, no longer held up by Peter.

She only let out a little shriek before she clenched her fists and jerked to a stop, hovering right above a tree bough that would've smacked her right from the air.

"Shithead," she muttered to herself, an insult her friend Marcus liked a lot. Marcus was one of the rudest people to ever have walked this earth. He was a liar, a thief, and a heartbreaker. He was sarcastic, and sharp. He was also the only friend Char had.

Peter came hurtling down next to her. He was laughing.

"Did you hit anything on the way down?" She asked before she could help herself. "You were going pretty fast."

"Why do you care?" He asked brusquely.

"Because," she said, getting a little defensive. "I just do."

"Girls," Peter said, shaking his head wisely. He descended the rest of the way to the ground.

"Don't you girls me, Peter," Char said, following him unsteadily.

"No! I didn't hit anything!" Peter burst out. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Char blinked, then whacked him hard on the shoulder. This was her best reasoning. Peter was being a jerk, so he got hit.