Caged • Robbie Kay/Peter Pan •

Chapter Three

As we trudged our way back to the camp, I was captivated in mess of thoughts that scattered my brain and swallowed my full attention.

The secrets on this island were as plentiful as the stars above it. Why was Peter the way he was; bitter and controlling?

"Meadow!" Roux caught up to me, shattering my wall of thought. "Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you earlier. I just.." his sentence trailed off into silence and he released a breath of air.

"You're scared of him." I stated.

His shameful gaze barely met my eyes and he nodded slowly. "Everyone is. Except you, of course. That's the reason he brought you here."

"What do you mean?" I asked him, bemused at his statement.

"Peter said that when he visited you in your bedroom, you saw him and you said 'I'm not afraid of you'. That's why he brought you to Neverland." his ingenuous smile hung modestly on his freckled face. "I'm glad you're here, Meadow."

I tousled my hand through his mass of red hair in the most motherly way possible and returned the gleeful smile.

"I missed breakfast." my stomach echoed it's emptiness. "I went to change and you guys had left already. By the way, the chest in my tent; it says 'Hope' on it, do you have the key?" I asked Roux.

His face paled and he shook his head. "We aren't allowed to talk about her."

"Hope is a person?" I questioned.

He shook his head and leaned forward, making sure that no one heard him. "Hope was a person"

•••

"I just don't understand. We aren't even allowed to talk about her, yet she's wearing her clothes and staying in her tent?" Chase's voice pierced through the tent door, snake venom trickling from his words.

I listened for a moment, not wanting to walk into something I wasn't supposed to.

After we had gotten back, I fell asleep in my tent for what seemed like only a few short minutes, but when I awoke, the night had fallen over Neverland and the lanterns were lit along with the stars.

The rest of the boys had gathered in Peter's tent, where Nolan had said their dining table was.

"Spying, are we?" a voice behind me muttered, causing me to gasp and turn around quickly.

Peter stood holding some of the fruit that had been harvested earlier in the day. "You aren't a very polite little thing, are you Meadow?" he clicked his tongue and chuckled. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to use the door." he said sarcastically before reaching over my shoulder and pushing the door open, the light from inside illuminating his face as he stepped around me and into the conversation filled tent.

I followed him inside and sat down at the large wooden table, eight chairs surrounding it. One chair stood at the head of the table, more intricate than the others that lined the sides. Owen sat beside me, consumed in his own work. A small block of wood rested in his hand while a dull knife whittled away, creating a work of art from practically nothing. I watched for a moment before speaking. "What are you making?"

He paused looking up at me. "I don't know."

I laughed, causing him to smile. "I just start chipping away at it and then whatever it starts to look like, that's how I finish it." he explained.

I reached my hand out to touch the small figureless wedge. "May I?"

"Sure." he said, transferring the piece from his grasp to mine.

I examined the sculpture between my fingers and the newfangled smell of it reminded me of saw dust. "It looks kind of like a bird." I stated. "See, this is the tail and this part here is the head. Like a blue jay or a lark of some sort."

Owen chuckled. "A meadowlark."

I smiled at the hearing the sound of my own name. "Yes, a meadowlark."

"A meadowlark it is, then." his gaze met my eyes and for the first time since I arrived here, I felt a trace of happiness emanating from the bizarre haze that I had been in since the day began.

As I watched Owen's hands work away at the wood, I hadn't noticed the array of food set before me. Berries, fruits, different meats, and a large pot of what I presumed to be stew had been arranged over the surface of the table.

Peter sat at the head of the table and cleared his throat exaggeratedly. Everyone's conversation ceased and their eyes fell upon Peter, who's impatience was apparent. The point of his dagger perforated the surface of the table as he twisted the handle back and forth, spinning the blade with his thumb and middle finger.

"Before we begin eating, I would like to remind everyone that our newest.. addition, has not yet experienced a proper welcome." Peter's tongue flicked over his bottom lip before a smug smirk grew onto his face.

He held his cup up and with eyes as piercing as his very dagger, he glared into my eyes. "To Meadow. May you never want to leave the comfort and joyous embrace of Neverland."

And then I finally understood why Peter Pan was bitter and controlling. Peter Pan was a coward that hid behind loneliness and frightened people into never having the desire to leave him. He drowned himself in arrogance and pride so that the world would never see him for who he truly was. A boy.

•••

So I updated because I love this story even though I know no one else does.

I have 1 vote guys.

I would be extremely happy if I could get at least five to motivate me to continue!

Thank you for reading and please please vote or comment or something.

By the way, the ages of the lost boys

Caspar - 19 (the same age as Peter)

Chase - 18

Owen - 18

Nolan - 16

Roux - 13

Liam - 11

OKAY BYE

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