I knew I was in trouble the moment my parents sent for me. They hardly ever talked to me, but when they did, I hardly came out of the room crying or planning to run away.

Before I went to see them, I braced myself for an hour or two of business lectures, talks on maintaining my school grades, and the same old speech on preserving the family's name and never putting it in bad light, which my father always recited with so much conviction I've almost memorized every word.

I would've endured a day of these. What they told me was not anything I had expected at all.

"Come in, Scarlett," my father said. My mother was sitting beside him on the couch, looking solemn. I entered the room and sat on the chair opposite them. I wasn't supposed to greet them or anything. I wasn't supposed to talk before they did. That was respect. At least, that's what my father believed in.

"Scarlett, dear," my mother began, "We've called for you tonight to discuss a really important matter."

"I know. Business. What else would you call me for, really?" Even I was surprised by the hostility in my voice. I practically snapped at them. "Sorry, go on."

"Actually, this isn't about business. Let me ask you first, are you still going out with Drew?"

My jaw dropped. First, because Mom knew there was someone called Drew that I was dating. Second, that she asked about him at all. This is very peculiar, but I had to answer. "No," I said, as if no explanation was required.

"Good. Or else, I would've told you to leave him, because…" Mom's words trailed off, like she couldn't bear to say what she wanted to. But Dad liked to get straight to the point. "Scarlett, tomorrow night, you will meet the man who will be your husband." I stifled a gasp. Confusion and disbelief nested in my brain. "You've got to be kidding me," I snapped again. "Scarlett, I never kid, and you should know that."

"But—"

"Listen to me. Don't interrupt," he said firmly. "You know that the business has never been stable since the first quarter of the year and that we're just running on savings and what little amount we're earning. Last week, however, a CEO of a respectable company promised to strike a deal with me and save our business. There was a flurry of papers to be signed, forms to be accomplished, and other things that I need not discuss to you because you still won't understand. The main bargain was this: His son is of age, and you will be in a year." I hung on, listening to every wretched word, although I thought I already knew what was coming. I desperately wished for this to be some cruel joke. My father continued, "To formally seal the deal, he wanted our children to be married. That way, neither one can back out of the agreement if something goes wrong. To save our business and to save our life, I agreed, no matter how much I hated to do it. So, tomorrow, you will meet Simon. He's a fine lad, my girl, so much better than your Drew."

That was the end of his spiel. It wasn't open for argument. No questions asked. It was the rule.

I knew this was no joke. I would be married off to a guy I didn't know just for a stupid business deal. The truth rained on me like heavy bricks. I felt my heart pound, desperately searching for a loophole, a way out of this mess. "What if I don't like to?" I asked.

"We can't do anything now," my mother said quietly.

"Why?"

"Your father and I signed the agreement itself with Simon's parents. We back out of it and the business will collapse. I know how hard this is for you-"

"No! You don't know at all!" I shouted. Even my father was taken aback. They couldn't possibly know how I feel. "You have no idea how hard this is for me. But thanks for the early information. You two are the most awesome parents in the world. Thanks a lot." Then I stalked out of the room, making sure they heard the door slam.

I was in my room before the tears started to fall. They had done it. They had stolen my whole life. When I was fifteen, they told me that I would take the course that wanted me to take in college, so I could learn how to run a business, which was their stupid business. Sitting in an office and signing papers all day wasn't my dream. I wanted so bad to take Creative Writing and be a great writer. But what could I do?

Nothing. That's what.

And just now, they delivered the best news in the best way possible. I felt like a circus animal: being told what to do to please people I didn't know, performing for them, and being locked away in a cage once I'd served my purpose.

I would be eighteen next year. Before I lose it, I might as well live the life that I want, even for just a limited time.

I lived the fast-life since then. I made friends with people generally called "bad influences". I flunked school voluntarily. I got caught trying to steal the car. I juggled boyfriends: two or three at a time. And believe it or not, I sold weed and earned a lot. I changed myself into someone unrecognizable, someone radiating youth and freedom.

But still, I was far from free. The bonds that had always been restricting me grew shorter and wider, so I couldn't go anywhere anymore. My parents banned me from going out unless I have someone they trust with me. But I paid him off. I got away easily.

One night, however, I felt the need to stay at home and wash the dark eyeliner off my face and exchange my club getup for pajamas. I didn't know why at all.

Instead of sleeping, though, I turned my laptop computer on and surfed the internet while feasting on chocolate chip cookies. Staying late at night using the computer is illegal to my parents, but I didn't care, because they already stole my life. They couldn't possibly rob me my internet privileges.

It was at that moment that the window blew open. I started to get up to close it back, but right then, I should've realized that something was wrong. But I didn't. So I almost had a cardiac arrest and died on the spot when someone came in. I bit back a scream and was planning to kick the person out when a tiny light darted in behind him, and I saw his face.

It was a face like no other. His eyes were young and bright, but I couldn't remember what their color was. His nose was small, his face naturally playful. When he smiled, I saw that he still had on all his first teeth, and the restless light beside him was a… fairy, and he was… Peter Pan.

I pinched my arm, hard. I blinked. It couldn't be.

And how did I know it was him at once? I had no idea. I just knew.

"Boy, come in," I said meekly.