***Hello Everyone. This is my first Peter Pan fic. Tell me what you think
of it. I've had the urge to write a story like this for awhile now. Reviews
and comments are of course welcome***
Life
So everyone knows the story of Peter Pan. The boy who never grew up. Lives in Neverland, fights with Pirates, leader of the lost boys, Indians, mermaids, fairies. The works.
I always liked that story. Even when I was little. I watched Peter Pan the Disney movie a thousand times. Same with Hook. When I was older I read the book, which I always liked too. Ever wonder what happened to the boy who never grew up? What he would be like now? I know I did. It was shortly after I read the book that I found out.
I was sixteen, a sophomore in high school, my entire life ahead of me. But I didn't want it. Not one bit of it. If I could I would have sold my future for five dollars, taken the money, bought a pack of cigarettes, smoked them, and waited for death to claim me as his.
Now this doesn't mean I wanted to kill myself or anything like that. I wasn't depressed, angry, sad. Not any more then the average teenager. I had the same problem our friend Peter did. I didn't want to grow up.
Think about it. I didn't want to go to college, get a job, marry someone I didn't really love anyway, have kids, get old and die. Boring. Everyone does it. I would probably grow up into one of those women who don't know how to act their age. And I didn't want to go out like that. I didn't want to die trying to be something I wasn't. (Young.) I wanted to die being something I actually was. Kind of quitting while you're ahead.
I figured if I had to die anyway I might as well die young, before I had to deal with all the shitty responsibilities adults deal with.. But like I said. It's not like I wanted to kill myself because my life sucked. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with my life, but we'll discuss that in a little while.
The way I figured it was that a full life should be considered 20 years instead of 75. If you lived to be 23 you were ancient. It's kind of complicated I guess. All I know is that I dreaded the idea of growing up. I suppose a lot of people do and I was definitely one of them.
So what does all of this have to do with Peter Pan? Everything. I could sympathize with his feelings, and I don't know how many nights I laid in bed, wishing that Peter was a real boy, who would come to my window and take me away to Neverland.
A stupid fantasy is what I always thought. I would tell myself to shut the fuck up, and get to bed. You had school tomorrow. Tests to take, people to talk to, the same old bullshit.
That's another thing. Besides not wanting to grow up, I was getting bored with my life. Same shit, different day. Go to school, come home, homework, TV, phone, sleep. Do the same thing the next day. Like I said before, my life didn't suck, it was just mundane.
I had a decent amount of friends, a pretty good family, I wasn't poor, or abused. I always had clothes on my back, food on my plate, and a roof over my head. But I was getting bored of it.
So anyway back to Peter. I was sixteen, the night I found out Peter was a real boy. This is my story of a journey to a land where everything is different, and each day is an adventure. But most importantly, a journey to a land where you never grow up and you never die. You remain just as you are, for as long as you want. Frozen forever in space and time. And it was wonderful.
Life
So everyone knows the story of Peter Pan. The boy who never grew up. Lives in Neverland, fights with Pirates, leader of the lost boys, Indians, mermaids, fairies. The works.
I always liked that story. Even when I was little. I watched Peter Pan the Disney movie a thousand times. Same with Hook. When I was older I read the book, which I always liked too. Ever wonder what happened to the boy who never grew up? What he would be like now? I know I did. It was shortly after I read the book that I found out.
I was sixteen, a sophomore in high school, my entire life ahead of me. But I didn't want it. Not one bit of it. If I could I would have sold my future for five dollars, taken the money, bought a pack of cigarettes, smoked them, and waited for death to claim me as his.
Now this doesn't mean I wanted to kill myself or anything like that. I wasn't depressed, angry, sad. Not any more then the average teenager. I had the same problem our friend Peter did. I didn't want to grow up.
Think about it. I didn't want to go to college, get a job, marry someone I didn't really love anyway, have kids, get old and die. Boring. Everyone does it. I would probably grow up into one of those women who don't know how to act their age. And I didn't want to go out like that. I didn't want to die trying to be something I wasn't. (Young.) I wanted to die being something I actually was. Kind of quitting while you're ahead.
I figured if I had to die anyway I might as well die young, before I had to deal with all the shitty responsibilities adults deal with.. But like I said. It's not like I wanted to kill myself because my life sucked. There wasn't anything particularly wrong with my life, but we'll discuss that in a little while.
The way I figured it was that a full life should be considered 20 years instead of 75. If you lived to be 23 you were ancient. It's kind of complicated I guess. All I know is that I dreaded the idea of growing up. I suppose a lot of people do and I was definitely one of them.
So what does all of this have to do with Peter Pan? Everything. I could sympathize with his feelings, and I don't know how many nights I laid in bed, wishing that Peter was a real boy, who would come to my window and take me away to Neverland.
A stupid fantasy is what I always thought. I would tell myself to shut the fuck up, and get to bed. You had school tomorrow. Tests to take, people to talk to, the same old bullshit.
That's another thing. Besides not wanting to grow up, I was getting bored with my life. Same shit, different day. Go to school, come home, homework, TV, phone, sleep. Do the same thing the next day. Like I said before, my life didn't suck, it was just mundane.
I had a decent amount of friends, a pretty good family, I wasn't poor, or abused. I always had clothes on my back, food on my plate, and a roof over my head. But I was getting bored of it.
So anyway back to Peter. I was sixteen, the night I found out Peter was a real boy. This is my story of a journey to a land where everything is different, and each day is an adventure. But most importantly, a journey to a land where you never grow up and you never die. You remain just as you are, for as long as you want. Frozen forever in space and time. And it was wonderful.