Hey future reviewers :P
My new obsession, Peter Pan! I absolutely adore Captain Hook, just like my Severus Snape and Joe Solomon addiction (which don't worry, did not fade).
Anyways, here's the first chapter of my new story, "To Live Would be an Awfully Big Adventure".
And I will be updating both Gallagher Girls and Harry Potter soon. Sorry guys, I have been so busy with... well life in general, that I've disregarded my stories but I'll start posting again soon, especially over Summer. :)
Anyhoo, love ya!
:D *Make sure to review* :D
Eternal youth, only one possesses it, he goes by the name of Peter Pan.
One often anticipates this as evermore bliss, but it can arrive with much misfortune, distress, even despair.
Perhaps, forever young is not as simple as we suspect.
I would imagine it would become lonely, being the only one to live forever.
To watch as all your loved ones vanish in front of your very eyes.
To know you are and always will be... alone.
Peter Pan once said in the grasp of death itself, "to die would be an awfully big adventure".
But then again, so would to live.
Peter sat on his bed, swaying his feet to and forth to the sound of his tapping fingers, dancing across his wood carved night stand.
Tears swelled, yet frozen, in his evermore emerald eyes.
Everybody, gone.
Wendy had left long ago, his first and maybe only true love.
Taking with her, not only his heart, but her two brothers, Michael and John.
His lost boys decided to go along with Wendy and her brothers, they were all happy together, growing up in London.
Going to school, doing chores, cleaning, cooking, doing grown up things.
They were destined to become an adult and alas, Peter was not.
But they were gone and there was nothing he could do about it.
They were nothing more then a memory that wouldn't fade away.
They had left him alone, leaving him once again abandoned in a perpetual abyss of ageless time.
Then there was Tinker Bell, another... gone.
However, she had mysteriously disappeared a seemingly endless time ago and after days and days of searching, Pan presumed her dead.
She was his only true friend, the one that had been there from the start.
His support system, his comfort, the only one in which he could confide.
Now she was nothing but a memory.
He was truly all alone, living in his own nightmare.
