The skies of London were dull and dark. Stars twinkled and sparkled on the surprisingly clear sky. The memory of Peter rescuing me flashed in my mind, it’s been thirteen years since that event in history accorded. Now, Peter and I were very close. We were the besets of friends. Ever since the accident happened, Peter was extremely protective of me after that. The Lost boys didn’t mine Peter’s protectiveness of me. They understood perfectly how Peter’s attitude was. His arm was in front of me, warning me that we were close to the building’s edge. Tonight was exciting for me, Peter offered to take me to the Story Teller’s chambers to listen to her enchanted tales of fighting villains and saving the Princess from horrified creatures. Peter took my hand tightly and we began to stand. He began to lift from the ground slowly, with my hand still clutched in his dirty palms. He was able to lift me from the ground with no difficulty. Carefully, Peter flew over the edge and set me down on the next building. Next to us was a window of stained glass creating a picture I could not make out. I could hear the voices of people inside the room. Peter put his finger to his lips, telling me to stay silent. He jumped onto the edge of the short balcony and peeked inside the window. I could see the soft yellow light glow around his face, his hazel eyes gleamed with mischief.
“…as he cuts your belly, and his eyes. Turn. Red.” I heard a girly voice from the sile. I tiptoed behind Peter and tried to peek in but the only thing I saw was a lamp, mounted on the wall. Its flame glowed with uncontrolled power of light. I hear sparkles fly and see Tink stand on my shoulder. Her blonde hair was tangled and short. Her dress was made entirely of leaves and flowers. She began tinkering loudly,
“Shh!” I hissed at her, the sound of a dog barking cuts the silence. I hear its paws pound against the floor boards, his bark worse than his bite. Peter back’s away from the window, also pushing me backwards. Tink flies off my shoulder and hovers over Peter. Three children come running to the sile and look out over the town. The first was a small boy with short ginger hair and in a dress. It was white with red stripes. Clutched in his hands was a dirty teddy bear. There was another boy but taller. He had brown straight hair with weird things on his face; they were black and looked like circles. Something clear was in the circles; it wasn’t water that’s for sure. He also wore a dress with stripes. In the middle stood a girl-no older the Peter- stood between them. She too also had a dress but was all white. She had hair up to her shoulder in a light brown. They all stared out the window, they looked up and down. Then retreated into the building, shutting the window behind them.
“Who were those people?” I whispered. Peter shook his head.
“I don’t know, but the girl tells stories. Did you hear them?” he asked softly, He started to rise above the ground as we walked to the stars. I jumped from window to window and over alleys.
“No, all I heard was something about red eyes and someone cutting your belly.” I shrugged, “What were those things on that boy’s face? That clear stuff wasn’t water.” I jump over to the next building, Peter stays close to me. He’ll help me over buildings by holding my hand and flying with me hanging.
“I think there called ‘glasses’” Peter says. Tink flies above me, leaving a trail of sparkling dust behind me. The dust settles on my belt and clothes. I began to float. I balance over midair and land on the other roof. Peter flies above me. Keeping a steady pace so he doesn’t go too far. When I reach the last building I bended my knees and jumped. I flew up into the sky with Peter underneath me in case I run out of Pixie Dust. Peter flew a little faster so he flew in front of me. The star that I wished on and prayed on came into view. I shut my eyes tight and took Peter’s hand, he held it back. I could hear wind howl in my ears and my braid flew against my back. All I could do was hang on tight.
* * *
The fire gleamed with light and power in the middle of the dark room. I sat on my hammock, listening to Peter’s story about Pirates, Princesses and dragons. With a comb I found on the beach, I brushed my long red hair from its braid. I caught Peter’s eye, He stopped for a minute. Then shook his head and continued to tell his tale. I laughed a little and put down the comb. After the story was over, everyone climbed into their hammocks and blew out their flames. Peter ventured over to me, my back was faced to him but I could feel his presence.
“You ok?” he said, I felt his skin on my shoulder. I closed my eyes and smiled. He climbed into the hammock and sat next to me. I felt his hand go through my hair.
“How’s your…eye?” he asks. Peter always asks me that question every so night.
“As good as it can get.” I always answer. Peter gives me a hug and plops down on the hammock.
“What’s it feel like?” Peter asks again.
“What does what feel like?” I say and lay beside him so were staring at the roots in the ceiling. I hear the lost boys snicker behind me but I don’t care.
“Your eye, do you see differently?” Peter says.
“Not really, I see the same but… it doesn’t feel the same.” I sigh. Peter’s eye pool with concern,
“You’ll get used to it. Right?” Peter says. I nod,
“I guess so.” I murmur. He smiles and closes his eyes. His hand searches for mine. Once found, he holds it in his palm. I smile and close my eyes and let the swirling darkness surround me.
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Peter and Me
FanfictionPeter Pan is the only child that never grew up....or is he? Pam's parents died in the war, leaving her to roam the streets of London. Peter finds her and brings her back to Neverland. She grew up, but then stopped at Peter's age, but just under. The...