Robbie Kay/Peter Pan Imagines [Not Taking Requests]

Imagine #13- Thank You (Peter Pan)

“Mom! Dad! I’m home!” I yell, throwing my backpack on the couch. Silence.

“Anybody home?” I giggle, walking into the kitchen.

I scream as I see my mom on the tile floor, dead, with a pool of blood around her, trickling out of her wound like a crimson stream. A knife lies beside her, also caked in the fluid, and I peer closer to see all life faded from her face, which was now a lifeless, cold grey color. I see my dad in the corner of the room, twirling a knife in his hands, a large, creepy smile plastered on his face.

“You’re next.” He says, slowly walking over to me.

“No!” I scream, and dart up the stairs and to my room. I close and lock the door, frantically pushing heavy objects in front of it.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are, Christina!” He cackles, and I hear his heavy footsteps getting closer and closer to the entrance of my room.

I open my window wide, pushing the screen out, and try to make a rope from my clothes. I try to tie knots in them, but I give up because it seems too flimsy. If only my window opened up to the roof, I might have been able to jump a story. But two? That would probably end up with a ton of broken bones.

At this point my dad is banging on the door, fumbling with the handle.

“HELP!” I scream out the window, hoping one of the neighbors would hear me. My dad picks the lock with one of my bobby pins, and was pushing against it to try and move away all of the obstacles.

“Christina…you should know that bad behavior results in discipline.” He chortles through the crack of the door.

He makes it through, looking bloodthirsty. He walks slowly over, and I walk backwards until my back is against the wall. I crouch down into a ball, covering my head with my hands. I’d be with my mom soon enough.

Mom, if you are listening to me right now, please help, I pray, hoping my mom hears me.

A huge gust of wind blows into the room, and I look up to see my dad staggering. He falls limp to the ground, not dead, but not conscious either.

“Dad?” I ask, slowly getting up. I look behind me at my window seat to see a boy, about my age, sitting there and staring at me intently.

“Who are you?” I ask, trepidation making my voice quiver.

“No need to be scared, love. I’m Peter, Peter Pan. And I’ve come to help you.”

“Like the fairy tales? My mom used to read your story to me every night when I was little. Did she send you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love. But we better go soon. That sleeping spell won’t last forever.” He says, holding out his hand.

I take it, and in a matter of seconds we are soaring above the city.

“Wow.” I say, taking it all in.

“Pretty, huh?”

I nod, then look up at him.

“Thank you, Peter.”

He smiles warmly, and we fly up to the second star to the right and straight on ‘til morning, like my mother used to always read to me.

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Woah! Two imagine is one day?! Riley, you are cray cray! No, just bored ;)

Soooo...this was for @22neverland...hope you like it! {And sorry for the confusion earlier}

Idk.... REQUEST ll VOTE ll COMMENT ll FAVORITE

And that's all, folks ;)