I awoke upon a small pile of hay. The hay smelled wonderful, compared to what has entered my nose, while in the company of these men. The room was rather dark, and had a musty smell. The sun was trying to peek through the very thick curtain through and an obviously small window. The room rocked back and forth and I knew I was on the ship.
I sat up, to see how much strength I had. I desperately wanted to know where I was, and who was in charge. I could hear voices of men, muffled by the walls of wood. Pain shot up my arm, worse than before and I let out a small cry, cradling my arm.
A small sound arose from the dark shadows and I held my breath, knowing I wasn't alone. I watched as a boy, arose from the dark corner that harbored the eeriest shadows.
I didn't move a muscle.
As he approached me I studied him. The butterflies in my stomach flew away and at once I knew I shouldn't be afraid of him. As I looked him up and down I felt a pinch of sorrow. On his head, I noticed a large scratch, and in places it was still bleeding. It started to the side of his left eye, running down his face, into the curve of his neck, and continued down his ratty, dirty shirt, which seemed two sized too small. His pants had holes at the knees and the material was so worn, I wondered why it hadn't fallen into a million pieces ages ago.
He looked into my eyes, as if telling me not to worry. I recieved his message. There was a familiarity to his gaze that put me at ease and I knew he was a friend. He seemed only twelve, if that, and knew I meant no harm. He got down on his knees, by my feet, and his fingers touched my butterfly printed shoes. I hadn't noticed it earlier but the shoes I wore reminded me of the favorite ones I owned when I was little. I had looked at my pants and noticed they were multi-colored leapard print, they were my favorite when I was six. I saw my shirt and noticed it was a purple and red polo shirt I refused to take off when I was four. I was wearing my favorite childhood clothes, and I was seventeen.
My thoughts haulted as the boy bit the bottom of his pants. My eyebrows arched in confusion as he tore one pant leg off. He quickly tied it around my neck, and ever so gently placed my injured arm in his homemade sling. "Don't move it a lot or your arm could fall off."
I smiled as his eyes looked at me, full on innocence, then returned to the floor. "Thank-you. My name is Kelly." At once my arm began to feel much better.
"My name is D.B.," he hesitated for a moment then asked. "are you an Angel?"
"I'm sorry?" I chuckled at his question, he looked down at his toes, which were peeping out of a pair of old worn blue velcro shoes. "No, no I'm not." I replied, thinking I had hurt his feelings by laughing.
"Peter didn't bring you, how did you get here?"
I shrugged, not knowing who Peter was "I just kind of... appeared. How did you get here?"
"I appeared with the other Lost Boys, Peter is our captain. I was captured, and now I'm here." he explained like it happened every day.
I told him how I lived with the unicorns and how I was captured, but our conversation was brought to an abrupt hault as the door began to creak; it was slowly opening.
I sat up, to see how much strength I had. I desperately wanted to know where I was, and who was in charge. I could hear voices of men, muffled by the walls of wood. Pain shot up my arm, worse than before and I let out a small cry, cradling my arm.
A small sound arose from the dark shadows and I held my breath, knowing I wasn't alone. I watched as a boy, arose from the dark corner that harbored the eeriest shadows.
I didn't move a muscle.
As he approached me I studied him. The butterflies in my stomach flew away and at once I knew I shouldn't be afraid of him. As I looked him up and down I felt a pinch of sorrow. On his head, I noticed a large scratch, and in places it was still bleeding. It started to the side of his left eye, running down his face, into the curve of his neck, and continued down his ratty, dirty shirt, which seemed two sized too small. His pants had holes at the knees and the material was so worn, I wondered why it hadn't fallen into a million pieces ages ago.
He looked into my eyes, as if telling me not to worry. I recieved his message. There was a familiarity to his gaze that put me at ease and I knew he was a friend. He seemed only twelve, if that, and knew I meant no harm. He got down on his knees, by my feet, and his fingers touched my butterfly printed shoes. I hadn't noticed it earlier but the shoes I wore reminded me of the favorite ones I owned when I was little. I had looked at my pants and noticed they were multi-colored leapard print, they were my favorite when I was six. I saw my shirt and noticed it was a purple and red polo shirt I refused to take off when I was four. I was wearing my favorite childhood clothes, and I was seventeen.
My thoughts haulted as the boy bit the bottom of his pants. My eyebrows arched in confusion as he tore one pant leg off. He quickly tied it around my neck, and ever so gently placed my injured arm in his homemade sling. "Don't move it a lot or your arm could fall off."
I smiled as his eyes looked at me, full on innocence, then returned to the floor. "Thank-you. My name is Kelly." At once my arm began to feel much better.
"My name is D.B.," he hesitated for a moment then asked. "are you an Angel?"
"I'm sorry?" I chuckled at his question, he looked down at his toes, which were peeping out of a pair of old worn blue velcro shoes. "No, no I'm not." I replied, thinking I had hurt his feelings by laughing.
"Peter didn't bring you, how did you get here?"
I shrugged, not knowing who Peter was "I just kind of... appeared. How did you get here?"
"I appeared with the other Lost Boys, Peter is our captain. I was captured, and now I'm here." he explained like it happened every day.
I told him how I lived with the unicorns and how I was captured, but our conversation was brought to an abrupt hault as the door began to creak; it was slowly opening.