You ever have that feeling when your eyes fall across a dark forest of what could lay beyond the normal, human boundaries to be explored in the world of writing? Or how about when you look up at the stars on a particular night you feel charged with a writing (for those who write) or simply those who don't write but are curious of exploring the galaxies beyond. Woven within the threads of blazing stars and velvet black skies, you feel a fantasy, or an adventure blossom to life...
Peter Pan entered my life as a kid. As a child and with his adventurous streak and reign over a land of never growing up... it was like being entranced by a single, wisp of a flame.
This tale has a darker edge from J.M Barries original piece of the infamous rebellious boy. Pan isslightly past his teens while in the Other Land (which will be explained) and basically non-redeemable in many aspects. You the reader can decide whether or not there will be any redeemable qualities about him.
FURTHERMORE, our main female character stems from a rather tangled and complex Darling family tree, not down a completely foreign road. Certain similarities and events will be mentioned because the essence of Peter Pan is still there as promised.
It has simply, shall we say, been altered.
*Blows blue pixie dust at her readers* If you trust me take the adventure. Although I will say you may not come away unscathed...
Prologue
Regret twisted an unwanted knot in the pit of her stomach. She threw her fist against the flaking decay of barnacle spidered out across the hollow of space. A small hiss slipped past her lips as she gazed at the meat of skin now gouged from impact. The metallic remnants of blood lingered on the tips of her tongue from where her teeth had punctured the muscle.
All it had taken was one, single moment for the light to be snuffed from her eyes before she'd been pulled into an unconscious abyss for what felt like an eternity. And now, here she sat, awake, alert, and with a heavy leaden weight of blame in the pit of her stomach in the form of guilt.
One: She should've never let her cousin lead her to what had appeared an old, dusty attic above the stairs.
Two: Had she followed the rules of obedience she'd would've remained safe in her room that night.
Three: If she had read the J.M Barrie novel given to her it would've prepared her for what she was about to face. Evolved from a world where fairy tales were dead to her and reality was but of a figment of dream until death...
She'd never heard of the folklore involving pirates.
Fairies.
Indians.
The flying man.
The Other World.
As she dared to breathe beyond the stench of rotten fish and mildew whilst trapped within a caged prison that just barely fit her 5"3 frame, a revelation dawned.
The attic window had been boarded up for a reason.