The Boy Named Peter Pan

Chapter 5: The Truth He Left Untold

Here goes nothing, huh?

I had decided there was no point in contemplating anymore, in questioning whether I should do this or not.

I thought the secret of that peculiar boy named Peter and that book, Neverland, was something I only knew.

And that drove me mad.

Not entirely, that is; I had reached the point of thinking that he was part of my wild imagination and nothing more. But when I thought about the day before, when I was in Madeline's room and saw the same book I possessed, a spark of hope appeared in my subconscious, thinking that I was not completely insane after all.

That I wasn't the only one that knew about Neverland.

However, since Madeline had so strangely avoided to talk about the topic, I had to find answers on my own.

From the only source that I knew.

From the troublemaker himself.

Putting my ego aside, I looked down at the shelf before me, where the purple book was tightly squeezed among the others. No one seemed to notice its appearance there, not that is shocking, since I am the regular visitor here and not my parents.

I hastily grabbed it again and opened the cover, where I saw the scrap of paper I had hidden still perfectly folded and waiting for me.

Without much thought, my fingers eagerly smoothed out the paper, my eyes proceeding to reading the small message I had avoided to read for a while now.

I knew you wouldn't fail me, Ellie

Unconsciously, I found myself frowning.

'Ellie'?

"Do you play the piano?"

I turned around and saw a smiling Peter looking at me, while his fingers were brushing the piano keys.

Of course he would instantly appear.

I hid the book behind me on instinct, as if I suddenly wanted to protect it.

"We need to talk."

"Ah, cutting to the chase already. It's been so long since the last time I saw you and yet you remain as stiff as ever."

"Why you-"

"Follow me, Ellie. Let's take a walk to the garden you oh-so adore."

Huh?

"Now wait for god's sake-"

But it was too late to cease him. Peter had already leaped over the window as if it was nothing. Did he expect me really to do the same thing?

Watching him, Peter landed splendidly on his own two feet, maintaining his balance as if he was an acrobat in those circuses that usually come around once or twice in the city; everyone was always so excited to watch the spectacular performances.

... Could Peter be working in a circus?

I mean, that would at least explain his reflexivity.

"Come, Elise. If you take too long, I might get spotted and you definitely don't want to get into that kind of trouble, right?"

Was he trying to use reverse psychology? An impressive ability, if I may add, but I highly doubt Peter thought of it that way if he so carelessly used it in his favour.

What was even more astonishing, was that it actually worked.

I let a small sigh and rushed to the window myself, halting the moment I was a step away; what was I doing? This was not appropriate-