Confessions of a Lost Girl (Peter Pan fanfic)

Chapter 19

I awake to the sounds of tapping on my window.

I instantly knew who it would be.

There, flying in front of my window, was Peter and a blond haired girl in a worn green tunic, black leggings, and black leather boots. I fling the window open, and stick my face inches from Peter's.

"What do you want, Pan?" I spit. I turn to glance at the blond girl. I feel a weird feeling in my stomach when I see her levitating beside Peter.

Anger?

Wait, no. It's...

JEALOUSY.

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no! I am NOT jealous of some random girl who's hanging out with Peter! Why do I even care?! I hate Peter Pan!

Right?

I glare at her. "And who's your friend?" I seeth through my teeth. She flinches, and looks hurt. "Don't you remember me Tali?" She asks. I narrow my eyes at her. "Should I?" I ask hostilely. She turns to Peter. "I didn't believe you at first, when you said she wasn't herself. But I believe you now." I glare at her. "Who are you?" I ask again, impatiently. I drum my fingers on the window sill. "I'm Adriana. Or Tinker Bell here. Don't you remember me?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, and dig through my hazzy memory.

Oh wait, there it is! Adriana. She was my best friend in the orphanage! My eyes fly open. "Adriana. Like, Adriana from the orphanage?" I ask. She smiles, and nods. I open my mouth to say something friendly, but then I remember one other thing.

She left.

My face falls. "What's wrong Tal-" "No!" I yell, pointing a finger at her. "No, no. You left me. You left the orphanage, you left me behind. You didn't come back! You abandoned me, like everyone in my life!" I say.

"Everyone but Hook, and Gisabell, and everyone else on this ship!" I say, shaking, my voice cracking.

Peter goes pale. "Wait, Tali-" "No!" I yell, and try to close the window, but he struggles against me. "Wait, Talia, please! I just want to talk to you!" He says, struggling to keep the window open.

I grit my teeth. "No! I will not let you people hurt me again!" I say. Peter leans forward, I'm assuming, to try to keep the window open, but he doesn't.

His lips crash into mine. I'm taken by surprise, and my grip on the window slackens. Peter pushes the window all the way up.

Oh no.

I take my right hand, and punch blindly where I'm assuming his face is. I hear him groan, and his lips leave mine.

I stumble back, and land, butt first, onto the ground.

He looks at Tinker Bell, or Adriana, in disbelief. "True love's kiss didn't work." He says sadly.

When I see the sadness in his eyes, I almost regret being so harsh.

Almost.

Tink lays a hand on his shoulder. "That's because Hook tamper with her emotions, remember? He literally took her love for you away." I narrow my eyes in confusion.

"Is it, is it, true?" I ask doubtfully.

I shouldn't be questioning my father.

But yet, my gut is telling me too.

I've learned to follow my gut instinct, and right now, it's telling me to trust what they're saying.

Tink and Peter looks at me in surprise.

Tink nods though. "May we come in to explain?" She asks politely. I pause for a moment, then nod. Peter and Tink fly slowly in. They sit on the edge of my bed, Peter holding a hand to his cheek as he gazes at the ground sadly.

Before I know what I'm doing, I kneel in front of Peter, and remove his hand slowly. He looks at me in surprise.

I raise my hand slowly, to his cheek, and press my cold fingers to his warm cheek. Despite myself, I feel a shiver run through me as I touch his skin.

And I find myself enjoying this.

I can't believe myself. I just socked him a moment ago, now I'm doing God knows what, holding his cheek.

But my gut feeling takes hold, and I close my eyes. Somehow, I concentrate on my hand, touching Peter's cheek. I can feel him holding my hand there, but I concentrate.

I concentrate on pushing my energy to my hand, and then to Peter's cheek.

I honestly have no idea what I'm doing.

But I hear both of them gasp, and after a moment, open my own eyes. I watch in disbelief, as the spot beneath my hand, on Peter's cheek, glows a violet light. When the violet color fades, I pull my hand away, slowly.

Before, there was an ugly purple bruise, with a few scratches where blood was peeking through.

But now, there's nothing.

Absolutely nothing there.