Lost Girl || Complete

Chapter 2: Dinner on Neverland

    You’d better believe I was ready to get out of there and figure out where I really was. A part of me still didn’t believe it was Neverland - I mean, who would? But none of the people here could help; they all hollered and jumped around like they too believed they were Lost Boys! 

    Not long after my first introduction to Peter Pan, Felix guided me down a ravine which lead us into this sort of underground cave. They’d hollowed out this side of the hill and dug deep, giving the perfect, cool atmosphere for iron works and weapon forging. Torches lit the clay walls and illuminated the faces of boys who sat sharpening knives and banging spears, resulting in a never-ending echo of metal upon stone. They each glanced up at me as we passed through. They all looked so… old for their age.

    We soon reached one of the deeper sections of the cave; the prison chambers. Mine was a small, empty cell against the back of the cavern, it's one open side being closed off by wooden bars from floor to ceiling. Felix tossed me in and shut the door with a slam and a snicker. 

    “Let me go!" I demanded, racing over to the bars. "What do you want with me?” 

    Felix was just about to mouth a response when Thud! Something slammed in the ironworks. All echoes fell silent. 

    “What I want with you,” answered a shadow from the doorway, “is rather simple really.”

    The miserable voice belonged to Pan. 

    Felix stepped away with his head bowed in respect. Pan took his place which was two feet away from where I stood in my prison cell. 

    “Oh, and what’s that?” I asked sarcastically. 

    “What I want,” Pan smirked, “is for you to join us for dinner tonight.” 

    My nose wrinkled in disgust. “Dinner? You throw me in a cell, don’t explain your cause, then invite me to dinner?! Why would I ever do that.” 

    “Because I think you want to know how you can get off my miserable little island.” 

    I looked down at that coy poker-player face. I didn’t want to go, but I figured that if I had to suffer through one insane meal to get home, I would. 

    “Fine. But why keep me in a cell ‘till then?” 

    Instead of answering this time, Pan just smiled. “Felix.” His captain approached and asked what he might do. “Our guest would like to see what we’ve made of ourselves here. Have Tim show her around.” 

    “Yes, Pan.” 

    As he turned to walk away, Peter stopped and whispered, “Don’t let her leave the village.” The captain nodded and unlocked my cell once again. After being called for once or twice, in ran a small, white-headed boy who introduced himself as Tim and lead me out the door. He then showed me all the different workings of their society, some of which I described earlier. It was actually quite impressive; almost unbelievable that a band of rag-tag boys had accomplished and maintained all this on their own. And the boys themselves - I got my first really good look at them, and they were fierce. Wild and free, I’d even think them unable to function in such a disciplined structure as this, but then here they were. 

    In one section of the camp, as Tim explained, was the training square. You walked in, a boy handed you your weapon, and you competed against another boy of totally equal or totally unequal match. The losing one was pressed on - “Fight!” “Harder!” “Faster!” - until their strength either rebuilt or gave way. Then the whole thing played all over again.