The Real Peter Pan

• Chapter 6 •

"The trust of the innocent is the liar's most useful tool."

-Stephen King

One by one I ripped the buttons from my yellow blouse. Each individual button would harshly bounce in it's own direction; clanking as it hit the hardwood floor of my bedroom.

"Brennan?" A small voice chirps. I don't look over to my doorway, but just continue yanking the buttons from the yellow silk.

"Yes Declan?" I say monotone. He plops criss cross next to me.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm letting out my anger."

"Why? Shouldn't you just take a walk?" Declan asks. I laugh.

"That's a good idea." I say as I rip off the final button.

"Why are you angry? Is it because you don't feel good? Mom and Dad said your sick again."

I snap my head at him.

Deep breaths Brennan.

"No bud. It's not because of that." I shake my head and turn back to the blouse. "Someone just made me upset because they heard something they weren't supposed too."

"Oh. You should just talk to them." He smiles. "Tell them to forget what they heard."

I give a sad smile. "It's not that easy Declan."

"Sure it is! If they are nice they will understand."

I hold his small hand in mine. "How'd you get to be such an intelligent ten year old?"

He giggles. "I was born with it!"

I laugh and give him a hug. "Why don't you go downstairs. I'll be down soon to make you dinner."

"Okay!" He says standing and heading to the door.

"Oh and Brennan?" He laughs. I raise an eyebrow.

"You may want to pick up all the buttons so you don't slip."

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"So you'll start getting better soon then?" Claire says with wide eyes.

I smile. "Yep! Since I'm off the medication there is nothing to worry about!"

"That's amazing! I'm happy for you." She squeals hugging me.

"Thanks."

"You know what?" She asks opening her locker. "To celebrate, I'm buying your lunch today!"

"Claire! Seriously you don't have too!"

"I insist!" She grabs my hand and begins to drag me to the lunch room. "Come on!

We enter the lunch room and Claire turns to me. "You find a table and I'll go get the food."

I laugh. "Alright."

She leaves and I begin to walk through the packed tables. Then my eyes land on a certain someone.

Someone I should confront.

Slowly I walk up behind him. "Peter."

He turns around. When his eyes land on me he stands up. "Yes?"

"You should forget what you heard yesterday." I say dropping my head.

"And why is that?" He spits coldly.

A confused look grows on my face. Why is he being so harsh?

By now mostly every eye in the room is locked on the conversation between the new girl and the bad boy.

Growing uncomfortable with the crowd I shift my feet.

"Just believe me." I turn and begin to walk away.

"Why should I believe someone who's sick in the head."

I stop frozen.

No. How- how could he?

Then all the pain and shock is replaced with boiling blood and red vision.

Whipping back around I stomp over to him. My face is so close to is I can see the small flash of regret in his dark eyes.

But it's too late to care.

"I guess the fairytale was right then huh?" My words so covered in venom that my lips burn.

"Peter Pan doesn't grow up."