Random oneshot. My brain hurts (first week back at school… .) so I have no current inspiration for my stories. Also, my English teacher said I needed to practice my 'settings'. Hopefully this is descriptive enough.
So, expect some more one-shots from me :)
DancingSpy x
Disclaimer: The wonderful J. M. Barrie made up Peter Pan, and I do not happen to be J. M. Barrie, nor am I related to him in any way :(
"C'mon. It's easy. All you have to do is to get in there, take something to prove you were in there, then come back out again. The cops won't come; they're never round this nick of the woods. They've got better things to do."
Jack stared up at the tall, imposing Victorian house in front of him. In the dim light of the dying streetlamp, it looked, hollow, empty, almost spooky.
Everyone knew the story of the Darling house, and what happened that night decades ago, but whether they were true or not was still to be proved. Some people said the house was haunted, while others dismissed the rumours.
The moon passed behind a cloud. The boarded up windows looked like they had lights flickering behind them, the door lay half off its hinges, creaking in the slight wind. Jack shook himself.
Get a grip, man. The place has been deserted for years! There's nobody in there…
"You sure the cops won't come?" he asked Greg, 'leader' of the gang.
"Hell yeah. They're too busy busting kids drinking in town. Why would they waste their time in an upper-class street?" Greg said, giving Jack a not-too-gentle shove towards the abandoned house. "Now get in there, or you're not in the gang. This is the initiation. Take it or leave it, chicken."
With one more glare at Greg, Jack jumped in through one of the gaps in the boarded up windows. His feet connected with the ancient floor with a flumph. Years of dust muffled his footsteps, but left clear trails of where he was going.
"I'm in, happy now?" he called outside.
"Uh uh." Greg called back. "You need to take something from the inside. Just to prove you aint just shakin' there in fear for ages."
Jack flipped his finger to Greg, but of course, Greg couldn't see him. His eyes slowly got used to the dark, and he took out the torch Greg had given him so he didn't bash into something and alert the neighbours. He blinked rapidly as the sudden light hurt his eyes.
He saw numerous light switches, but didn't dare turn them on. It might alert someone that someone unwanted was in the house. He gripped the torch tighter.
He waved the torch around, taking in his surroundings. A staircase was to his left, a dining room to his right. Remembering his initiation, he headed up the stairs.
Upstairs was almost as dusty as downstairs. The carpets were all the exact shade of grey, but as Jacks footsteps disturbed the dust, he caught glimpses of what the carpets must have looked like an age ago.
He wandered about the corridor, his torch passing over bookcases (with the books still in them, patiently waiting to be read), grime-streaked mirrors (the dirt so thick, Jack could hardly see his reflection), and black and white photographs adorning the walls. Jack kept hearing things he thought sounded like voices, but dismissed them.
"It's just the boys outside" he whispered to himself, trying to keep calm. Every instinct was telling him to run, to get out of there pronto, but he stood his ground.
"Chicken" he hissed. The floorboards creaked in response.
He slowly walked towards a door at the end of the corridor, and with one trembling hand, pushed open the door.
It was a bathroom.
Jack's breath all came out at once. He hadn't even realised he had been holding it. Taking a good look around, he saw that everything was left as it must have been when it was occupied. Toothbrushes were still in a small glass, covered in a thick layer of cobwebs and dust. The golden coloured taps on the bathtub looked rusty. Jack sneezed.
He backed out of the room, and headed back along the corridor. A flickering light from one of the rooms caught his attention.
Creeping slowly towards the door, he nudged it open with his toe. It opened to reveal a nursery.
All this would have not bothered Jack; he knew that some children had lived here. It was the fact that the tiny candles in the nightlights were flickering merrily in the gloom.
But nobody's been here in decades… let alone tonight!
A draught blew playfully in through the open window, yet not a speck of dust stirred.
"Wendy?" a voice came from the room. Jack turned and saw a boy, dressed in green leaves, wandering about the room, searching under beds and chests of drawers.
"Wendy?" he asked again. He obviously didn't see Jack.
"Wendy, come on. You win this round. Can you come out now?" he called.
Jack stood and stared at the boy. The boy exited the room, walking straight through Jack, still calling for 'Wendy'.
Shuddering, Jack took a step back in shock. Soon, another voice sounded.
"Peter? Peter! I give up! You are the hide-and-go-seek champion, I admit it! Can you come out now?" a girl's voice trembled. Jack wheeled around and saw a young girl in her nightgown, scampering from room to room, looking around corners and in drawers.
"Peter? Peter!?" she sounded frantic now. The boys voice joined in the panic. He too, sounded petrified.
"Wendy? Wendy, where are you!?"
"Peter, Peter where are you!?"
Jack stumbled backwards in fear. The two figures were in front of each other, yet oblivious that the other was there. They continued to call for each other in wavering voices.
This place is haunted… Jack thought.
"Hurry up, Jack! Find something and get out of there!" Greg's voce came from outside. Jack jumped out of his skin. He grabbed the nearest object on the floor, a small object, and held it up to the light. Both children turned to him. Both children screamed at the same time:
"That's my kiss!"
"That's her kiss!"
Jack was paralysed for a moment, but as soon as he remembered how to move his feet, he bolted out of the room, the tiny object clutched tightly in his hand. He leaped down the stairs, the two children in his pursuit, both shouting after him.
"Give it back! I can't lose it! He'll get mad!" the girl wailed piteously.
"Give it here! That doesn't belong to you!" the boy hollered, chasing him down the stairs, both children ignoring the other.
As soon as Jack leapt out of the window, the boy continued to yell, and the girl started to cry. Jack ran back to the pavement where the gang of boys were waiting, trying to block out the girls sobbing.
"Oh, yer back. I thought you'd never come out!" Greg said, chuckling. "So, what did ye get? Gi' it here!"
Jack held out his hand, and in it was a small thimble.
"A thimble. A thimble? There was a whole house load of stuff in there and you grabbed a thimble?" Greg scoffed. A few of the boys snorted.
"There were people in there." Jack stated, gripping the thimble. It shook violently in his hand, as though it knew it shouldn't be there.
"Like who?"
Jack didn't know what to say. Should he admit that he had seen ghosts?
"Ghosts." He stated.
"Oh look, Jack's scared of a ghostie!" one of the boys said, waving his arms around and making 'oooo' noises.
"Oh shut it!" Jack said, shoving the boy.
"Make me, chicken!" he responded, shoving him back.
"Will you two shut it?" Greg snapped. "Wi' the racket you two are makin', I wouldn't be surprised if people come out! The guy proved himsel' by goin' into the house. Lets go for the night. We'll see ya tomorrow, Jack." Greg said, and his gang followed him like obedient dogs.
Jack stood a long time staring at the darling house, the girl's sobs ringing in his ears. He looked back, and saw her at the door, crouched on all fours, still crying.
"That thimble must mean a lot to her." He whispered to himself. Reluctant to walk through the gate again, he threw the thimble back into the garden. It landed on the garden path with a quiet chink.
The girl stopped sobbing, and looked towards the sound. After noticing the small silver object on the ground, she all but pounced on it, and wandered back inside, a look of elation on her face.
As the door shut behind her, Jack swore he could hear the ghostly cries of 'Peter!' and 'Wendy!' start up again.
He ran, not looking back.
Yeah, so… ghosts :p
Peter and Wendy are supposed to be ghost-like things. In my head, the words 'the spirit of childhood' is swimming around. Don't think that came across in the story though XD
DancingSpy x