I heard the story the other day of Peter Pan guiding dead children to a safe afterlife and i thought of this story. i hope you like it and if you do please review :) they make me happy thnx and enjoy xox
Dead... Dying
I look so peaceful when I'm asleep. My face is relaxed and my expression is serine with worry or stress lines on my forehead. If only I was asleep, but I knew better. I could tell from the paleness of my skin and the lack of any movement from my chest, which should have been rising and falling as I breathed. This was only clarified by the annoying constant flat beep of the machine that was attached to my finger, meant for recording my now non-existent heart beat. A small hand grasped my own as I turned around. A boy of about 12 years was standing behind me, dressed in green leaves with messy dirty blonde hair and freckles across his nose. He had the expression of someone who always had fun and was carefree but I could see the sadness behind his eyes. How many times has he had to do this? I knew why he was here and I was relieved to have someone to help me. I wasn't scared anymore like I had been when I was in the bed. I felt free, like a weight was off my shoulder, I was content.
Taking one last look at my lifeless body I turned and walked with the boy towards the window. "Do you trust me?" the boy asked in a clear sing-song voice as he stepped up onto the window sill. Without even considering my response I nodded and the boy smile playfully. I couldn't help but smile back, being around this boy made me feel like a kid again, carefree and playful. The boy jumped out the window, pulling me along with him as the double doors to the hospital room burst open and doctors rushed in. But they didn't come to the window where the two kids had jumped out, no, they didn't know I was there, they couldn't see me. They were too busy on my body, trying to revive my dead heart. 'It won't work' I thought. I knew better than them, I knew I was dead and there was nothing they could do about it. I was another tragedy, another child who dies before they can live a full life. The 15 years I had already had was enough, now I was ready to go.
The boy flew up towards the sky and I flew next to him, heading towards the stars. But which one, there were so many? I didn't know which star I was meant to fly to, how to find my way there. The boy squeezed my hand comfortingly and I stopped stressing, I didn't need to anymore, I was free. "Second star to the right," the boy said, pointing in the direction we were heading. I don't know how I didn't realise it was that star before. It seemed to whisper to me, convincing me to go to it, drawing me in. I didn't need any convincing. As we approached the star got brighter and brighter, a piercing white light, until it was blinding. As I was engulfed by the light I could only register two things, the small hand still held in my own and the last words I remember my mother saying to me as she cried beside my hospital bed. She didn't think I was awake, and I wasn't, but I could still hear them. "Whatever you do, my darling, don't go into the light."
And then it was gone. I felt nothing, heard nothing, could see nothing except the never-ending whiteness, and it hurt. I felt go through my body and my chest ached. The boy appeared in front of me and smiled openly, full of joy. "Your time isn't up yet," he stated before he was gone and I was awake, gasping for breath and shaking all over. Someone was holding my hand and I realised it was my mum. I smiled shakily in her direction as the tears rolled down her face. The doctors busied themselves, trying to keep me alive. I saw the defibrillator that had brought me back to my body, back to life. I looked at my mum again and struggled to speak before I blacked out. "I went into the light mum, but my time wasn't up."
62 Years Later...
"Read this story Nana," the little girl said as she climbed onto the hospital bed and carefully sat next to me, avoiding the tubes that ran from my body to the various machines. I could feel my countdown about to reach zero, the countdown that had started last time was on the brink of death. I took the book from my granddaughter and looked at the picture of the ragged boy on the front cover. 'Peter Pan' read the title, describing the boy with the dirty blonde hair dressed in an outfit of leaves. I smiled inwardly and another wave of pain washed over my body. Too soon the story was over and my family left and I was alone in my hospital room with the all too familiar bleeping machines and blinking lights. I wasn't afraid, I knew I was ready to go and this time I wasn't coming back. I was a miracle, not a tragedy, a girl saved from death and I had lived my life to its full. I had kids, my kids had kids and I did everything I had wanted to do. But I was no longer a child, I didn't know if the boy would come to me, an adult. He was the there to guide children; help them to be happy in death. I closed my eyes feeling the final countdown begin, 5...4...3...2...1...0.
I opened my eyes and I was in the sky, flying towards the stars. I was alone, the boy didn't come with me, but I already knew where to go. 'Second star to the right' I heard the boys voice in my head. I flew towards the star until I was engulfed by the white. Then I felt the little hand in mine and I turned to see the very same blonde boy. I smiled in recognition, "Hello Peter." The boy smiled at the sound of his name. "My clock ran out," I said matter-of-factly. Peter smiled and suddenly the white nothingness disappeared, revealing an island surrounded in ocean. Peter flew towards the island with me in tow, dipping down to skim along the calm water. I saw my reflection in the water and I gasped, I was 15 again. I looked over at Peter and he smiled; the playfulness and happiness evident in his face.
"Welcome to Neverland, where time never runs out."