And So It Begins
As I laid sleeping in my bed, I thought it was mother in my room. Walking around, maybe picking some clothes off the floor, even though I told her countless times not to. If I had been coherent I would have realized that my mother wouldn't have been in my room at 2 in the morning, cleaning.
Well needless to say, it wasn't my mother in my room. I'll give everyone three guesses as to who it was. Give up.....? Well quite obviously it was our dearest Peter.
Let's take a second to analyze this situation. A girl is sleeping innocently in her bed, perhaps dreaming of the very boy standing in her room. A strange boy is wandering around said girl's room. Looking at her stuff, running his fingers over the pictures, and other various artifacts in the room. He is contemplating actually touching her, but is fearful that he will bring her into the land of the living if he does. So in conclusion, what the hell would you think if a boy you didn't know was in your room, and was thinking about touching you? Flip out would be my reaction, and so it was.
I suppose Peter didn't plan to trip over my backpack, making a loud noise. Since I wasn't a heavy sleeper, I immediately sat up and looked around. I was at a loss for words when I saw what had caused the ruckus. I wasn't sure what to say. So I said the first thing that came to mind.
"Who in the hell are you." Not very lady like, but it got the point across. Besides, I figured that you didn't have to be polite to strange boys walking around your room at night. I suppose I should have been scared, but I honestly wasn't. I figured if some guy wanted to kill me he would. I just wished he would get it over with, so I could continue with my existence, whether it be in life or death.
He was startled, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be, waking me up in the middle of the night. You didn't answer my question. Who in the hell are you."
He stood up, and introduced himself as Peter Pan.
I thought I was losing my mind. "Peter Pan," I asked? "As in the boy who never grows up."
"Of course. What other Peter would I be."
"Well Peter Pan, if you don't mind I'm gonna ask you another question. Why are you in my room." At this point I thought I was losing my mind, and I figured I may as well entertain this vivid delusion that seemed to be taking place in my bed room.
"I....I.....," he stuttered.
"Sorry, but the Peter Pan I heard of doesn't have a stuttering problem. Try again," I said lighting a cigarette. I offered him one, and to my surprise he took it. Great I thought. I'm wasting my cigarettes on a boy who isn't even there.
He lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply and tried to explain to me again why he was in my room.
"I saw you sometimes. At night. Staring out the window. You look kinda sad. I wanted to keep you company, but I didn't think it would be right to just fly into your window uninvited and all. So I guess I thought that if I watched you while you sleep, it wouldn't really count since you wouldn't find out about it anyway. I fucked that up," he said.
Serves me right for sleeping with the window open I thought. "How long have you been coming into my room," I asked?
"A few months," he said nonchalantly, taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Why me? I mean I'm sure there are hundreds of girl's windows you could fly into.
"I told you," he said exasperated. "You looked sad. Like you could use a friend. Besides, you have nice eyes," he added moving closer towards me. I backed up a little.
"How do you know I have nice eyes, if you watch me while I'm sleeping," I asked surprised that he would say that.
"I could see them shining when you look out the window. Like you wanted something more," he told me, now sitting on my bed.
I'm not exactly sure when I started to believe this was something real, and not just some sort of fucked up acid trip. I think it was when he reached out and touched my face gently.
"Don't touch me," I whispered.
"Fine," he said. "I'll go now. I recommend you lock your window from now on too," he advised as he started towards the window.
"Wait," I said, rushing from under the covers, to the window. He turned, and gave me a look so intense, that I almost melted. "Don't go."
"Why should I stay," he asked? "You obviously don't want me here," he said sounding quite hurt.
"I didn't say that. I....I just don't really know how to comprehend this."
"It's really quite simple, babe. I like watching you. You remind of something. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I know I like it."
"Don't call me babe," I replied shortly.
"Well I don't know your name," he revealed.
"You've been watching me for months and you don't know my name," I said shocked.
"Well you were never awake, so I couldn't ask you. But now that you are, what's your name," he asked?
"Claire. My name's Claire."
"Well, Claire, now that we know each other's names, mind if I stay and chat," he asked?
"Sure," I said. "Why not?" I lit two cigarettes and gave one to him. I walked over to my lamp and turned it on. It was when I did this that I realized how hot the guy in my room actually was. He had flaxen blonde hair, he was wearing jeans, and an army green shirt. He had blue eyes, great check bones. Hot doesn't describe Peter. He was beautiful. He looked much older then 12.
It was then that I also realized I was only wearing a skimpy tank top and flannel shorts. I blushed and went to my closet to grab a sweatshirt. He saw my embarrassment and laughed.
"Why so shy all of a sudden," he asked smirking?
"Shut up," I told him, pulling the sweatshirt down, and sitting down on the bed next to him. "Can I ask you question?"
"Sure," he said, leaning back, contently smoking his cigarette.
"How old are you," I asked curiously?
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Why?" I assumed age wasn't of much importance to a boy who never grew up and had all the time in the world.
"I don't know. I always thought you were younger. 11 or 12. But you look older. Maybe 15 or 16," I told him.
"Oh. Well I think I'm definitely older then 12. Technically speaking, I'm extremely old."
"Yeah. I figured." I looked at the ceiling because I didn't have anything else to say.
"How old are you," he asked?
"Sixteen," I told him.
"I suppose that's a good age to be. Too bad next year you'll have to be seventeen. Then eighteen. Until finally your just some old woman."
"Thanks," I said sarcastically. "That's a cheerful thought."
"Well you know it doesn't have to be that way," he said standing up and glancing at the window. I knew what this was leading to.
"What do you mean," I asked, playing stupid.
"You know what I mean Claire. Come away with me. Leave all this shit behind," he said, an impish glint fogging his soft crystal clear blue eyes.
I was got up and walked to the window, staring at the night sky.
"I know you want to. I can feel it in surging through your veins," he whispered into my ear, coming up from behind me. It made me shiver. He wrapped his arms gently around me.
"Look," he said directing my attention to the stars. "There's Neverland. Second star to the right. You can see it if you look hard enough," he whispered into my ear. "Come with me," he repeated. "Be my friend. We can take care of each other. You'll be forever young and beautiful, having fun until the end of time and then some."
So here it was. Do or die. Sink or Swim. What I had been waiting for. It seems like my entire life had been building up to that very moment.
"I don't know Peter. I want to. More then anything, but....."
"But what," he asked? "You have no excuses. There's nothing keeping you here. Come away with me," he whispered for the third time.
I leaned against him, as he wrapped his arms around me tighter. "Please," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on my neck. "I'll take care of you. You'll have nothing to worry about. You'll be mine forever and ever." He made it sound so good, and I knew I would go with him. I suppose I knew the moment he told me he was Peter Pan that I would go with him. I had never felt anything so just and right in my life.
"But you can never come back," he whispered tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I turned into his embrace, so I could look at him. I was searching for something in those endless blue seas, that were his eyes. I don't know what it was, but I found it. I smiled and he put his hand on my cheek. He kissed me gently on the lips. Looking back, I realize that that's the moment I fell in love with Peter Pan. "You won't regret it," he said and I believed him. I believed him with every fiber of my being.
He pulled away and before I knew it he was flying wildly around the room in circles. "We'll have so much fun together. Just you and me. And the lost boys of course," he added.
He landed on next to the window and looked at me. "You'll have to learn to fly," he said. "It's tricky at first, but you'll get the hang of it."
"Are you sure I won't kill myself, or fall?"
"No way," he said, like it was the most absurd thing ever said in the history of mankind. "I won't let you fall. And besides, you have me as a teacher." Peter was many things, and I was beginning to learn that modest, was not one of them.
"Here," he said, taking out a pouch. "Pixie dust," he told me sprinkling the shimmery glitter over me. He put his hands firmly on my hips and leaned in and whispered "Close your eyes." I closed them. "And think happy thoughts."
I thought of leaving this place and never coming back, flying away into infinity, and never growing old. When I opened my eyes, I looked down. I was a few feet off the air already. I clung to Peter, and he laughed at my shocked expression. "Don't worry. You won't fall. I'm gonna let you go." He slowly took his hands off me and to my surprise I didn't fall. He flew to the window, levitating outside. "Just push forward a little. It's kind of like swimming," he instructed. I did as I was told and hesitated just before I went out the window. "Give me your hand," he said extending his hand so I could take it. I placed my hand in his, and he gently pulled me out into the night air. He entwined his fingers with mine and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Ready," he asked?
"You have no idea," I told him. He laughed in response and off we flew into the night, towards Neverland. I never looked back.
And so it began........
***Alrighty, wow this chapter took a while, but I think I like it. I'm not too happy with the dialogue, but oh well. Reviews are always welcome and greatly appreciated. Hope everyone likes the story so far and keeps reading it.***
As I laid sleeping in my bed, I thought it was mother in my room. Walking around, maybe picking some clothes off the floor, even though I told her countless times not to. If I had been coherent I would have realized that my mother wouldn't have been in my room at 2 in the morning, cleaning.
Well needless to say, it wasn't my mother in my room. I'll give everyone three guesses as to who it was. Give up.....? Well quite obviously it was our dearest Peter.
Let's take a second to analyze this situation. A girl is sleeping innocently in her bed, perhaps dreaming of the very boy standing in her room. A strange boy is wandering around said girl's room. Looking at her stuff, running his fingers over the pictures, and other various artifacts in the room. He is contemplating actually touching her, but is fearful that he will bring her into the land of the living if he does. So in conclusion, what the hell would you think if a boy you didn't know was in your room, and was thinking about touching you? Flip out would be my reaction, and so it was.
I suppose Peter didn't plan to trip over my backpack, making a loud noise. Since I wasn't a heavy sleeper, I immediately sat up and looked around. I was at a loss for words when I saw what had caused the ruckus. I wasn't sure what to say. So I said the first thing that came to mind.
"Who in the hell are you." Not very lady like, but it got the point across. Besides, I figured that you didn't have to be polite to strange boys walking around your room at night. I suppose I should have been scared, but I honestly wasn't. I figured if some guy wanted to kill me he would. I just wished he would get it over with, so I could continue with my existence, whether it be in life or death.
He was startled, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, you should be, waking me up in the middle of the night. You didn't answer my question. Who in the hell are you."
He stood up, and introduced himself as Peter Pan.
I thought I was losing my mind. "Peter Pan," I asked? "As in the boy who never grows up."
"Of course. What other Peter would I be."
"Well Peter Pan, if you don't mind I'm gonna ask you another question. Why are you in my room." At this point I thought I was losing my mind, and I figured I may as well entertain this vivid delusion that seemed to be taking place in my bed room.
"I....I.....," he stuttered.
"Sorry, but the Peter Pan I heard of doesn't have a stuttering problem. Try again," I said lighting a cigarette. I offered him one, and to my surprise he took it. Great I thought. I'm wasting my cigarettes on a boy who isn't even there.
He lit the cigarette, inhaled deeply and tried to explain to me again why he was in my room.
"I saw you sometimes. At night. Staring out the window. You look kinda sad. I wanted to keep you company, but I didn't think it would be right to just fly into your window uninvited and all. So I guess I thought that if I watched you while you sleep, it wouldn't really count since you wouldn't find out about it anyway. I fucked that up," he said.
Serves me right for sleeping with the window open I thought. "How long have you been coming into my room," I asked?
"A few months," he said nonchalantly, taking another drag of his cigarette.
"Why me? I mean I'm sure there are hundreds of girl's windows you could fly into.
"I told you," he said exasperated. "You looked sad. Like you could use a friend. Besides, you have nice eyes," he added moving closer towards me. I backed up a little.
"How do you know I have nice eyes, if you watch me while I'm sleeping," I asked surprised that he would say that.
"I could see them shining when you look out the window. Like you wanted something more," he told me, now sitting on my bed.
I'm not exactly sure when I started to believe this was something real, and not just some sort of fucked up acid trip. I think it was when he reached out and touched my face gently.
"Don't touch me," I whispered.
"Fine," he said. "I'll go now. I recommend you lock your window from now on too," he advised as he started towards the window.
"Wait," I said, rushing from under the covers, to the window. He turned, and gave me a look so intense, that I almost melted. "Don't go."
"Why should I stay," he asked? "You obviously don't want me here," he said sounding quite hurt.
"I didn't say that. I....I just don't really know how to comprehend this."
"It's really quite simple, babe. I like watching you. You remind of something. I'm not quite sure what it is, but I know I like it."
"Don't call me babe," I replied shortly.
"Well I don't know your name," he revealed.
"You've been watching me for months and you don't know my name," I said shocked.
"Well you were never awake, so I couldn't ask you. But now that you are, what's your name," he asked?
"Claire. My name's Claire."
"Well, Claire, now that we know each other's names, mind if I stay and chat," he asked?
"Sure," I said. "Why not?" I lit two cigarettes and gave one to him. I walked over to my lamp and turned it on. It was when I did this that I realized how hot the guy in my room actually was. He had flaxen blonde hair, he was wearing jeans, and an army green shirt. He had blue eyes, great check bones. Hot doesn't describe Peter. He was beautiful. He looked much older then 12.
It was then that I also realized I was only wearing a skimpy tank top and flannel shorts. I blushed and went to my closet to grab a sweatshirt. He saw my embarrassment and laughed.
"Why so shy all of a sudden," he asked smirking?
"Shut up," I told him, pulling the sweatshirt down, and sitting down on the bed next to him. "Can I ask you question?"
"Sure," he said, leaning back, contently smoking his cigarette.
"How old are you," I asked curiously?
"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Why?" I assumed age wasn't of much importance to a boy who never grew up and had all the time in the world.
"I don't know. I always thought you were younger. 11 or 12. But you look older. Maybe 15 or 16," I told him.
"Oh. Well I think I'm definitely older then 12. Technically speaking, I'm extremely old."
"Yeah. I figured." I looked at the ceiling because I didn't have anything else to say.
"How old are you," he asked?
"Sixteen," I told him.
"I suppose that's a good age to be. Too bad next year you'll have to be seventeen. Then eighteen. Until finally your just some old woman."
"Thanks," I said sarcastically. "That's a cheerful thought."
"Well you know it doesn't have to be that way," he said standing up and glancing at the window. I knew what this was leading to.
"What do you mean," I asked, playing stupid.
"You know what I mean Claire. Come away with me. Leave all this shit behind," he said, an impish glint fogging his soft crystal clear blue eyes.
I was got up and walked to the window, staring at the night sky.
"I know you want to. I can feel it in surging through your veins," he whispered into my ear, coming up from behind me. It made me shiver. He wrapped his arms gently around me.
"Look," he said directing my attention to the stars. "There's Neverland. Second star to the right. You can see it if you look hard enough," he whispered into my ear. "Come with me," he repeated. "Be my friend. We can take care of each other. You'll be forever young and beautiful, having fun until the end of time and then some."
So here it was. Do or die. Sink or Swim. What I had been waiting for. It seems like my entire life had been building up to that very moment.
"I don't know Peter. I want to. More then anything, but....."
"But what," he asked? "You have no excuses. There's nothing keeping you here. Come away with me," he whispered for the third time.
I leaned against him, as he wrapped his arms around me tighter. "Please," he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on my neck. "I'll take care of you. You'll have nothing to worry about. You'll be mine forever and ever." He made it sound so good, and I knew I would go with him. I suppose I knew the moment he told me he was Peter Pan that I would go with him. I had never felt anything so just and right in my life.
"But you can never come back," he whispered tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I turned into his embrace, so I could look at him. I was searching for something in those endless blue seas, that were his eyes. I don't know what it was, but I found it. I smiled and he put his hand on my cheek. He kissed me gently on the lips. Looking back, I realize that that's the moment I fell in love with Peter Pan. "You won't regret it," he said and I believed him. I believed him with every fiber of my being.
He pulled away and before I knew it he was flying wildly around the room in circles. "We'll have so much fun together. Just you and me. And the lost boys of course," he added.
He landed on next to the window and looked at me. "You'll have to learn to fly," he said. "It's tricky at first, but you'll get the hang of it."
"Are you sure I won't kill myself, or fall?"
"No way," he said, like it was the most absurd thing ever said in the history of mankind. "I won't let you fall. And besides, you have me as a teacher." Peter was many things, and I was beginning to learn that modest, was not one of them.
"Here," he said, taking out a pouch. "Pixie dust," he told me sprinkling the shimmery glitter over me. He put his hands firmly on my hips and leaned in and whispered "Close your eyes." I closed them. "And think happy thoughts."
I thought of leaving this place and never coming back, flying away into infinity, and never growing old. When I opened my eyes, I looked down. I was a few feet off the air already. I clung to Peter, and he laughed at my shocked expression. "Don't worry. You won't fall. I'm gonna let you go." He slowly took his hands off me and to my surprise I didn't fall. He flew to the window, levitating outside. "Just push forward a little. It's kind of like swimming," he instructed. I did as I was told and hesitated just before I went out the window. "Give me your hand," he said extending his hand so I could take it. I placed my hand in his, and he gently pulled me out into the night air. He entwined his fingers with mine and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Ready," he asked?
"You have no idea," I told him. He laughed in response and off we flew into the night, towards Neverland. I never looked back.
And so it began........
***Alrighty, wow this chapter took a while, but I think I like it. I'm not too happy with the dialogue, but oh well. Reviews are always welcome and greatly appreciated. Hope everyone likes the story so far and keeps reading it.***