Have any of you seen the movie Hook? It's about when Peter Pan grows up. I didn't exactly like the movie since, well, he's the kid who never freaking grows up, but the new lost boys were pretty interesting.
I have this weird mind that sort of makes a past or history to every character I come across. So, here's the history of one lost boy- Don't Ask (yes, that is his name.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or the characters from Steven Spielberg's movie Hook.
Chapter One
Anthony crouched behind the trashcan. He was waiting for the signal or some sort of sign. If it didn't come soon, he was going to call this little mission over and leave. Let's face it; Anthony wasn't the most patient person in Brooklyn.
He watched the house in front of him. It was a nice an' big house. Anthony bet there was some nice an' rich people living in there. It was bound to have loads of junk in there. Junk that could last him a month for sure. It would stink big time if they never left. A big waste of ten minutes.
Anthony sighed and was about to stand up to leave the nice neighborhood and run off to find his hideout when the lights in the house flickered off and the door opened. He quickly crouched back down and looked out from the side of the trashcan and watched. What looked like silhouettes of a man, woman, and child walked out and entered the bulky thing called an automobile. The 'mobile made a loud grunting noise that made Anthony's hairs stand up on end before it drove out of the driveway illuminating the whole street with two bright lights.
Great. Anthony thought. Now I get t' do what I came t' do.
Grinning, Anthony waited until he couldn't see the lights at all. The neighborhood went pitch-black which served his purpose just fine.
As he walked toward the back door hiding behind anything he could see, he unconsciously gripped his jacket closer to him. It was a cold winter night and he could see his breath when he breathed. It was a wispy white that quickly disappeared. He held his breath after seeing this since he learned from experience that anyone could be watching ya, even when ya don't see 'em.
He felt around the wall he was next to and felt a door knob. He turned it and it swung open. He nearly fell since he had been expecting a locked door. He walked inside letting go of his jacket as it was a bit warmer in there.
Ya'd think they'd make it hard fa me. He thought as he stared around the room. It was clean and tidy. This would make finding a chest of valuables much easier.
He walked around the room as quiet as a mouse opening and closing drawers and cabinets. He opened a wardrobe. From the look of it, it hadn't been used in years; it had an inch layer of dust covering the whole thing. He found nothing but old clothes. He dug in the pockets, but only came out with a penny (which he pocketed), a button, and- he dug around in the last furry coat pocket and felt something circular with a large hole in the middle. He pulled it out and smiled- a ring. A simple ring, but worth something on the black market. If he negotiated well, he could sell it for up to 10 dollars, possibly 15. He was a good negotiator.
He was a little disappointed with the find so far, but he wasn't unhappy.
I've had worse days. 'Sides, I haven't even checked the rest of the house.
He rechecked the room and opened another door which led to the hallway. It was a long and wide hallway with rooms scattered about in no particular pattern.
The room closest to him was the bathroom. He doubted he'd find anything in there. Neither in the kitchen. People didn't exactly leave their valuables where they bathed or cooked. The dining room was a possibility, but it wasn't likely. People did where fancy clothes when eating for some reason, but he didn't think that he'd find any necklaces or bracelets. He knew that ladies were always double checking for stuff like that. So, the kitchen was out of the question.
The next room was what he had been waiting for. It was the bedroom by the looks of it. Without hesitation, he walked in there and the first thing he did was feel the blanket on the bed. It was probably a stupid thing to do in anyone else's book, but usually the quality of the blanket (by the feel of it, silk and cotton) showed how rich the people were. And the second reason was that, well, feeling a blanket every now and then didn't hurt. 'Specially if you don't have a bed much less a blanket to sleep with every night. He thought of his "home" with the rag as a pillow and the umbrella and several other things covering him. He didn't sleep much for obvious reasons.
He opened a drawer and saw a few sparkly things. He pocketed those. But above the dresser is what really caught his eye. A shiny pink box with a heart on it.
Gotta be a jewelry box. He thought He had come across those, but he hadn't had a find like this in a while. I mean, a few rings and bucks can only last you so long.
He opened up the music box.
Damn! He closed the box quickly. The jewelry box was a music box. He took in deep breaths and he felt the hairs on his back rise slightly. He shook himself and started again.
All right. I know what t' do now.
He grabbed the music box, which was quite a bit heavy, and dropped it on the bed. He pressed it in the bed hoping the bed would soften the sound. This time, the music was much quieter.
Anthony, forgetting the task a hand for a moment, listened to the lullaby. He started to feel a small shadow of a memory form in the back of his mind. A memory of a lady singing a song to-
No! He grabbed the jewels inside and slammed the box shut. I'm getting' outa focus. I ain't no wussy.
He stuffed the jewels in his pocket and placed the music box back on the dresser. He turned towards the door to leave the room and get the hell outa there as soon as he could.
Suddenly, he heard a sound. Voices. The chugging of an automobile. Footsteps. Not close now, but soon would be.
Anthony kept his cool and didn't panic. He left the room and quickly and quietly went down the hallway into the first room he went into before he got in the house.
He was just about to open the door to leave the house when he heard a voice come from the room.
"Mom! I'll be back in a second. I just need to find my book!"
Anthony cursed. A boy, the second man of the house, was in the same room as him. His night was definitely not going as planned.
How was it? I'm not a cliffhanger person, and I probably won't update for a while since the computer's breaking, but, I could beg my dad not to take it if I get, like, four reviews. Please? It'd be worth it.