Once Upon a Dream (OUAT/Peter Pan fanfiction)

A spark...

Violet's POV

I woke up to the oh-so familiar continuous beeping noise of my alarm clock that sounded like a car horn except a little less loud and a bit more monotonous.

Great... I thought, as my head spun with dizziness from being too tired.

When you get so used to something; for instance... like my black rectangular alarm clock that seriously will give me anger issues if I hear it beep again, you expect to always be ready to face it; ready to tackle the obstacle. But when you actually face it, all your bravado seems to drain away. Just like how I keep telling myself I will wake up right when the first "BEEEP" goes off; but I never do. The first thing I do when it beeps is I raise my arm lazily into the air, and smack my hand right on the button that was on the top of the alarm that made it snooze. After that God-forsaken beeping craze was over, I'd try to take advantage of the serenity of the sun shining through the window and the soft breeze that grazed my skin slightly, and try to relax again to fall asleep.

And then I remember. I remember of the little boy that was slumbering peacefully in the room next to mine, and I imagine his calm face against his pillow on his bed with a special quilt on top of him that I stitched up for his 8th birthday, when I was 11. His name was Henry, and he was my biological brother. It was quite a miracle when it happened; when the lady in orphanage creaked open me and Henry's dormitory door just a bit and told us a woman was going to adopt us. Henry didn't understand, but that was merely because he was just an infant, and just because I was only a toddler back then, I understood every word. And then I tell myself how much less enthusiastic it would've been if Henry wasn't in the orphanage with me. See, I was put up for adoption and was sent in this orphanage. It was a dull grey building in the middle of downtown and was filled with weary children that had the saddest expressions in their eyes. You'd probably think I didn't suffer from loneliness at all, considering I was only an infant when I was there in that place, and they found my biological baby brother to be with that was also put up for adoption, and that someone was actually going to adopt us which was our happily ever after. But still, I still felt lost.

The woman who adopted us was named Regina Mills. She brought us to her mansion in Storybrooke, Maine and raised me and Henry. So it was just the three of us; the eldest child, the younger brother and the mother (aka the mayor). Regina wasn't the easiest person to talk to. Since she was mayor, people were constantly afraid of her. Afraid they'd take away everything they possessed; their homes, jobs, families... But despite all the cruelty people claim she has, she still has a good side that cares about people; and by people I mean me and Henry. She is a great mother, and she love us and we loved her back. How can I not love someone who was willing to care for me when I was supposed to be one of the people who were not meant to be loved in the world? Someone who was abandoned would feel betrayal and sadness, and I couldn't thank Regina enough to pull me and my brother out of that God-forsaken place full of sunken eyed children who thought they would never have a chance again to be loved; and some of them probably was still back in the orphanage. And I've never wanted to be spoiled before, even though Regina offers me a lot of things an awful lot. I never say yes unless it was necessary; and I'm not trying to be modest because of building up some kind reputation or anything, but simply because I can never sympathize towards those depressed orphans and they will probably never be adopted by a rich mayor of a town who spoiled them. Henry just does the same because I was his older sister, and he looked up to me.

So yeah, Henry's my everything. I feel like 99.9% of his life is my responsibility. If anything tragic were to ever happen to him I would break. And part of the responsibility I personally undertook was to wake him up every weekday morning to go to school.

I slowly sat up and scooted to the side. I wiggled my toes into to the fluffy bunny slippers and sleepily rubbed my eyes and went out of my room. I quietly sneak into his room to wake him. I would usually expect him to groan or mutter "five more minutes" or something of the like whenever I shake his shoulder gently to wake him. But today was different.