The Princess and The Piper

Chapter Three

As I remained enclosed between the four bamboo walls of the wooden jail-- my tailbone aching and muscles numb-- the distant sound of music whistled through the trees. It was absolutely beautiful and alluring, yet full of melancholy. I frowned. How pitiful.

Heavy drops of warm blood and salty tears stained my cheeks. I didn’t even realize.

I had seen the bright yellow ball of light rise, removing the chill from the cool night air, but soon everything was consumed by the darkness once more.

Luna shone brightly, taking her rightful position high in the sky among the glimmering white stars. Her silver streak provided light and protection, which in such a place as this was a necessity.

It felt as if days had passed since my internment, yet also as if time stood still. I had received little to no food and my stomach growled louder than a threatened lion. My body lacked liquid, and my sunken skin felt stuck to my skeleton.

A cool breeze whistled through the bamboo sticks, and I hugged my legs tighter as I rested my chin on top of my filthy knees. Nothing thrived around me, with the exception of the tall oak trees surrounding the cage.

"Quite spacious isn't it," sounded an accented voice from behind, its tone flooding sarcasm, causing me to whip my head around. I flinched at the newly found burning sensation irritating my collar, disregarding the original voice. "We recently upgraded, you know. You truly are a lucky girl," they continued. "Let me guess: pretty, young girl ran away from home because she was mad at her mommy," he assumed, fake pouting while his bottom lip quivered.

I clenched my jaw at the mention of my mother, my muscles tensed and my blood grew scorching hot. I was furious, but at the same time, heartbroken. "You don't know anything about me," I muttered, hopelessness stinging my words as I internally questioned his ulterior motive. Everyone has one-- something that drives them.

He seemed taken aback but didn't show it for more than a split second, the triumphant expression spread across his face barely faltering. For a quick moment, just a moment, I saw something unexpected: pity. But I didn't need it. The servants at the palace granted enough, and ultimately I was sick and tired of it.

Sick and tired of everyone indicating me as weak.

Sick and tired of being looked down upon and viewed as a child. I'm sixteen years old, and a child is most certainly not what I am. Not anymore.

"There's nothing that happens on this island that I don't know about," confidence flowed out of his pores.

"Then how come you thought I was a boy?" I gripped the wooden bars and peered my head out between two. His grin faded.

I was now sitting on my knees and my torso straightened to its extent. My eyes met his glistening forest green ones as he knelt down close enough for me to hear his whispers. I inhaled his minty scent, tints of vanilla tucked away in the cracks as he spoke so low that the chirping crickets easily and effortlessly overpowered him.

His face now inches away from mine, an eyebrow raised. "Maybe you just look like a boy," a smirk danced on his dry lips as the offensive words left his mouth.

I squinted my eyes at him and chewed down on my lip, mentally pressuring his brain to explode. Just his presence made my blood boil. Noticing my emotional state inflicted a victorious grin upon his shadowed face, giving him a mystifyingly cryptic and perplexing aura.

"Who are you anyway?" I was beyond annoyed.

"Oh, did I forget to introduce myself?" he asked innocently tilting his head to the left, his apology not truly sincere. "I'm Peter. Peter Pan." He lifted his eyebrows in unison.