Shallow Secrets (A Robbie Kay/ Peter Pan FanFic)

Pride

I wake up in a tree.

Or what looks like a tree. 

I'm laying in a hammock and staring up at a rough wood ceiling. I breathe in a rich earthy smell, and run a hand through my sticky mess of hair and wince when my cool finger touches my sunburned neck.

 I survey my surroundings curiously. 

There is a notch in the wall closest to me, and a small shelf protrudes. On it, sits an apple and a small cup. Before I can think, I reach across and take the apple in my hands. It is smooth and it smells so good. I mentally count how many days it has been since I have been given anything to eat. Over seven. But I managed to sneak into the slop can a couple of nights before the crew threw the rotten food remains overboard. 

After quickly devouring the apple, I reach for a circular wooden cup. Inside, I see clear liquid. I swirl it around in my hand for a moment, wondering if it is poison. But my thirst wins over and I guzzle it down. Besides, if that boy who carried me here wanted to kill me, he could have just left me where I was. 

Suddenly, I hear voices talking outside of my little room and I jump. I silently slip from my hammock and stand next to a curtain, which covers the doorway to my small wooden chamber. 

A large gust of wind comes and my curtain flies open, shushing the voices. The piercing bright sunlight makes me squint. I hold my hand over my face to shield the sun and I am astounded at what I see. 

Boys. Lots of them. They look like their ages range from about 8 to 17. They wear very dirty, stained, clothes that are either too big or too small for them. I count 12 exactly. 

We are standing outside a giant tree and it looks as if we were in a clearing in the middle of the woods. A campfire blazes about forty feet from us and there are many giant trees around with small door- like curtain entryways to them.

 It is quite an awkward silence that follows the next few moments. The boys look at me with such surprise and suspicion written over their faces that I feel very fidgety and uncomfortable. My fingers travel to play with the hem of my sleeve nervously. 

Then my eyes fall upon the boy who found me at the beach.  He is standing beside another boy who looks my age and has wavy brown hair and a scabbard strapped to his waist. Those two look like the oldest in the group. 

The boy with the brown hair takes a step forward. My eyes travel to the muscles hinted through his dirty, stained shirt and I notice calluses on his tan hands, earned by hard work. His dark brown eyes are hard and distant, but I am not afraid. And that makes me worried. 

 Then he draws his sword out of his belt. My heartbeat quickens as he takes a step closer to me and I want to run but I have no shoes and nowhere to go. 

Then, he speaks.

"Legend," motioning towards the boy who brought me here, "tells me he found you stranded on the beach, is that correct?" 

I watch a few birds fly out of the tree at the sound of his voice. I jump, clearly taken aback by his stern voice, but I nod. 

"How did you get here, girl?" He spit the word 'girl' as if it was poison to his lips. There is dead silence as the boy waits for an answer.

"I...I don't really know." I squeak.
He doesn't look satisfied, in fact, he looks almost angry, so I try again.
"I don't know where 'here' is!" I say, my voice gaining more confidence. 

I have done nothing wrong! But his tantalizing eyes make me feel as if it is a sin to simply stand here. The boy must have seen truth in my eyes, for he tucks his sword into his belt again. But his skilled fingers hover over it, ready to draw it out quickly if I make any sudden moves.
"This," He begins with a bit of irritation, "Is Neverland, girl."
I look around again in wonder and fear.
"My name is Pearl...not girl." I say before I could stop myself.
The boy's eyes bore nasty holes in mine as he steps closer to me. My heart leaps into my throat; he is not a boy to be messed with. Why did I have to talk so hastily? His face is inches from mine as he says,
"Do you think I care...what your name is?" I feel my face grow warm and I avert my eyes to the ground. But then I flash them back into his.
"Well, usually normal people introduce themselves to each other as a sign of friendship...But perhaps I was too quick to assume we would be friends." 
The boy snorts and takes another step closer, "You will soon learn, girl, that I am not 'normal'.
A stray lock of wavy brown hair falls over his forehead but he makes no effort to move it, his jaw is set. A small murmur goes up through the crowd of boys. Without looking away from me, the boy whips out his sword and waves it in the air. Immediately the whispering stops. We glare at each other. Finally he spoke,
"My name is Peter, Peter Pan. And if you are smart you will keep your mouth shut and obey my orders."