"We search as ever for Peter Pan." Of course we blood do, it's what we have always and I fear will always do, because I can never find the irritating brat.
My crew have long questioned my sanity though few are stupid enough to question me. If they do – well this hook does have it's advantages. Can an inner voice smirk?
How does it keep happening, he is only a child after all. A child who lives and lives and continues to fucking live, no matter how many times I have tried to change that.
He wears his innocence his naivety like a badge of honour. In a way I suppose it is, for life is simple when you are a child, lines are easily drawn. If you are fighting for the side of good – it's a simple matter of laying your head down and you'll have your good nights rest. And he does, I imagine, believe he fights for good.
The responsibility that comes with being an adult makes it much more difficult to get sleep. It weighs you down with right and wrong, something Pan is as yet incapable of understanding. After all he is as much a murderer as I – but perhaps not in his mind. Perhaps in his mind he is only killing pirates. He is only killing the bad guys.
So his innocence is his badge of honour, his childish joy in life is his reward. While I no more or less a murderer than he can find no peace.
Oh I don't try to tell you that my conscience eats away at me, it doesn't, that is something I discarded years ago. It served no purpose. I will not hold on to anything that serves no purpose – except perhaps my obsession with Pan.
No not my conscience (Pan's conscience doesn't seem to bother him overly much either) but something far more satisfying. Something far more appropriate for a pirate. After all if you are going to hunt down a child with such fervour, bent on nothing but destroying him, you had better have a damn good reason – even if you are a pirate. Mine? Envy.
I envy him his childhood, he looks at everything in this world with a Child's awe. Nothing remembered, everything seen each time anew. The wonder of world seen daily. Some days I'm sure I can remember a moment – nothing more than that – when I was first created, that I saw what beauty there was in the world. Before the shadow of bitterness, anger and resentment, crept over my mind. Before I knew of Peter Pan's existence.
That's another thing I envy for he is Pan, he doesn't have to worry about the headache that comes from knowing he is alive and yet you are still unable to find him. The pain of knowing there is someone out there like him. Innocent, trusting, carefree for all his days. I hate Peter Pan.
How can you not envy someone who has always been what you have never been. A child. No never a child, I exist only in a young girl's imagination and she imagines me as an adult. Why would Wendy have given me a childhood – it served no purpose