VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

A Brief Intermission

Samuel:

Some nights, he found it hard to sleep. If he doesn't shut the window quite right, the rain will trickle in and he'll wake up screaming. The sound of thunder an ominous death march, leading him away from all that he knows and loves.

It wouldn't be so bad if he had his older brother with him, or even his mother. Sometimes the other kids watch horror movies, but he can't listen. Every scream reminds him of the screams, the thousands of screams as his town drowned. Stranded on the tops of buildings more like chimneys than people. Puffing smoke, strong and sturdy, not important to his own government.

It's nights like tonight, when the water hits the window, he can picture it hitting his brother. His name was Étienne, and his mothers name was Katrina. He thinks it's revolting that the very thing that stole his family away shares a name with the thing that created it.

Although, he wouldn't be able to articulate that. His English isn't very good, and even if it was, his thick French accent makes him more foreign than the other foster kids. Speaking is no longer a luxury, it's something that's been stolen.

Like the voice of his family, his too is gone.

Leaning against the window sill, he breathes. He is so very lost.

There's nothing left for him to do, but believe.

Lyle

He prays for silence, a luxury that is more of a dream than a possibility. Avoiding his family is one thing, but listening to their shouts, anger rising in their throats like fire, threatening to burn down the house.

It wasn't like this at his Dad's. He had known the eviction was coming. He was 12, but not an idiot. Waiting away the days until he had no choice but to give up. His Dad was a fighter, and one day, he hoped to be like him.

Joint custody is less like sharing and more like trading off. A constant fight for him, and he can't figure out if it's out of jealousy, spite or the want for him. He's heard that some people love so hard that they forget to breathe. He just wants to be loved so hard that someone takes in a sharp breath every time they see him.

Some times he wishes she'd just hit him. It would make it easier to hate her. Easier to explain why on the nights he's alone with her he feels like crumbling to dust in her fingers. Mothers are supposed to love, and though this isn't hate it certainly isn't right.

He wonders if it's him she despises, or his father. The lines between the two of them are blurred; they look so much alike. In the dead of night, the thought grabs him and strangles him. Is it because he's black and she's not? Or is it because of who he is?

Which is more terrifying?

He asks this question to the night air, as he leans out the window.

He wishes something would just come and carry him away, and for a second, he believes something might.

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What??? So, last night, I had this idea of a tribute to all of those who perished during the Hunt. This is for Samuel and for Lyle, and also for my heart which just got really sad.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It takes place the night both Samuel and Lyle were brought to Neverland. If you like it, let me know who you'd like to see in the future.

As always, enjoy your night, and I'll see you Friday.