AN: This is the first "real" chapter, I really hope you guys like it! And it would be super great it you could review and tell me just what you did or didn't like :)
I'm standing in front of the mirror, a pair of my mother's sewing scissors in hand. I stare at the girl who calmly, solemnly looks back at me from the old-fashioned glass. She's almost unrecognizable. My life has changed more in mere months than I could ever have though possible. I have become stronger, tougher, because I had to be. I always used to be short and curvy- now, I'm lean, tough and scrawny- it doesn't suit me, but it's a fact. The laughing, trusting Aliandra Pan I used to be had gone now, replaced by a grim faced girl with a pale face and haunted eyes. Yes, I have changed completely- except for one thing. My hair. It seems stupid in the face of all of this to be worrying about such a trivial thing, such a vain thing, having long hair. Now, that trivial little thing would change too. But bringing my eyes to my hair, freshly washed, a brown and gold mess falling just shy of my waist and curling damply, suddenly I couldn't force myself to. Maybe because I am vain, vainer than I'd ever admit. Maybe because so much of me had changed against my will, hanging on to something that I had the power not to change seemed like a necessity. Maybe I wanted to keep my long hair in the hopes that someday, after all this was finished, the innocent, carefree teenager I had been could come back, and she'd have something to remind her of how things used to be. So I set the scissors down, and glanced around. I didn't have to be anywhere right now, a rarity, and I closed my eyes, listening to the clock tick away steadily. Somehow I found myself thinking about when it all had started...
It was dawn when I opened my eyes.
The half an hour after darkness had left, but the world wasn't quite stirring yet was my favourite, and today, like every day, I intended to make the most of it. It seemed as if the second after my feet hit the rough but well-worn timber floor, I was running. Running out of my small, warm bedroom, through our large house, the long corridors where the barest hints of sunlight were beginning to throw shadows on the walls. I wove silently through toys, food, sleeping animals across our living room floor, the remnants of a large family that, darkened, looked slightly eerie. And then finally I was out; I burst through the door and into the fresh spring morning that had an electric air and seemed to hold endless possibilities. Suddenly, I halted, taking a heartbeat to absorb the morning. Excitement. Adventure. The forest's unspoken words struck a chord deep within me, and, impatient to chase them, I took off once again.
Soon I was running through the thick of the forest, my bare feet flying over the small brooks, sticks and stones as if they weren't even there. The trees, though thick set, seemed easier than ever to dodge. I had been running Neverland's forests almost since the day I could walk, I knew them as if they were a part of me. Yet still I was always surprised with what it had in store; the sense of wonderment that filled me when I was here never went away. It always seemed like the forest had something to tell me, voices whispering, beckoning me to come and discover them. I had spent hours doing just that, but today, that wasn't my plan. It was one of those mornings when I needed to feel alive. Needed to hear my feet pound against the earth, feel the cool wind that almost caressed my cheeks and taste the earthy but light scent that belonged to the waking forest. I felt completely, utterly free as my long hair rushed behind me and the overgrown bushes whipped at my legs and hands. Did I know why I was running? No. Did I care? Even less. I could see the sharp plunge of the Orain Gorge looming ahead of me, and I smiled, willing my legs to move faster. Bidding the forest goodbye for this morning the trees thinned and then disappeared in favour of a small green clearing. I crossed it in three or four long, final strides before I threw myself off the jagged edge of the sheer, unforgiving drop, down two hundred feet where dark, violently blue water and large boulders made the delta that connected the rivers to the sea. I grinned as I plummeted, stretching my fingertips out above me and feeling like the luckiest person alive. As usual, I let myself fall until my toes just brushed the tallest of the evergreen trees, leaves damp with dew.
Then, I stretched out my arms, and flew.
Like it? Why/not? Em xx