The Enemy (peter pan)

chapter twenty-six (adelia)

Chapter twenty-six (Adelia)

I know it's too early to mourn. But as I cry and wail, I realize it isn't.

Peter's been paralyzed, not to mention we're sailing out of here, and I'll never see him again. Also, I have a terrible injury with my thigh. I am filled with an emotion worse than anger, hopelessness. I encourage myself to believe in him by muttering "Peter Pan never fails." This does hardly anything to stop the physical and emotional pain and I finally decide to stop being a wuss. I think back to when I first met him, my captor, my enemy, my lover.

It was a dark evening back in New York, and I had been walking back from a double shift at the diner. I was muttering remarks of an offensive kind about my foster father, who would soon collect my hard earned money and use it for liquor. I had seriously underestimated the weather, leaving the apartment wearing a red camisole and denim high waisted shorts. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering as I walked through the dark alley, the long way home. A scruffy boy stepped out in front of me, raising an eyebrow.

"Well hello there, dearest." He said in a thick british accent. I noticed a knife in his hand, and knowing how badly this could turn up, I turned and ran, using all my speed.

I wasn't fast enough.

I felt myself be thrown to the rocky ground, and I realized he'd tackled me. Looking up in horror, I found myself staring into glimmering green eyes. Struggling, I asked "Who the hell are you?"

He cocked his head, a smirk plastered to his face. "Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? My name's Peter, Peter Pan."

I felt a small prick in my neck, and I clumsily tried to fight as my body shut down.

"G'night, love. See you in the morning." he chuckled.

Motivated by my memory, I hold in my tears, pull myself off the ground, search my pockets for the bobby pin I just remember having, and turn to the door. My long-used skill works like a charm, and in no time I've picked the lock, and exited the cell.

"It's up to me." I sigh, seriously beginning to doubt how long this bravado of mine will last. Cringing in pain from my wound, I search the room for a decent weapon, only finding a rowboat oar as suitable. Grabbing the heavy oar, I lug it out the room, carefully trying not to make a sound or use my injured leg. I wince as the woodwork creaks under my foot.

I limp out on to the main deck, holding my oar like a club, only to see another battle going on. Looking around quickly, my heart nearly stops when I hear Peter yell my name.

Hey guys it's Lara. I hope you like the story. My ig is @robbieokayy if you want to follow. I will ending this story soon, and I may make a separate sequel or just add it to the current story. What do you think?