Excerpt from J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan

OK, so I totally changed the whole plot of my story. I'm done with finals and stuck at school for a week, so I decided to take another swing at writing! Maybe I'll update this faster than the other version of this story. Also, I had forgotten why I mentioned some things in the other version of this chapter, which is really annoying. So, here we go!

I lunged out of my sleeping state, eyes wide, breath harsh, searching for something to prove that it was all a dream. My body, slick with sweat, was sore from the muscles that were kept taught through my restless sleep, and as I attempted to peel the wet, sweaty shirt away from my sticky skin, I calmed my shaking body from my torturous dream. Looking over at the clock I read 2:00 in bright red letters. The night is too damn long! I thought to myself. I then threw off my covers and then just lay there, on my bed, trying to relax myself from that dream that plagued me for nearly a week. That's right, a week. Almost seven nights of fear, agony, sweat. Why? I had no idea.

The only comforting thought running through my head at that moment every night was well, at least I'm home… I was home for three weeks. It was my winter break from my freshman year at college. Three glorious weeks of no studying for exams, no work, no classes… no sleep… not with these nightmares. At least I didn't have to scare my roommate every night. What would she think if she saw me burst out of my sleep in a sweaty screaming mess every night? So yes, I was glad to be home.

But back to these nightmares. I kept on asking myself who this strange man, the man in my dreams, really is. "The only person who he resembles is," I said, almost laughing at my childish conclusions, "Captain Hook!" I almost laughed the fictional character's name, and then sighed. "Just… just shut up, Laura. Come on, Captain Hook? Is that the best you can do? I mean, jeez, the guy doesn't even exist!" But who else could it be? I thought in rebuttal.

"What are you talking about, of course he does!" said a voice at the other end of my room.

I gasped, my eyes wide with fear and surprise, as I bolted upright. "Who's there?" I asked the strange voice.

"It's me… don't you remember me?"

"What? Who are you? Why are you in my room? How did you get here?" I asked. And as I carefully bent down to grab my baseball bat from underneath my bed, I heard bare feet pad their way closer to my bed. "No!" I cried, "Stay where you are! Don't come closer to me!" And no sooner did I turn on my light did I see a boy… barefoot… clad in… leaves… standing at the far side of my bedroom. His dirty blonde hair was in an unkempt mess atop his head, his face held an unreadable expression. His stance, with fists on his hips, legs shoulder length apart, stomach in, chest out, shoulders back, chin up, and eyes with some indescribable pride, he looked like… well… like Peter Pan.

Now, remember when you were little and you used to have imaginary friends? You know, the ones that you would talk to when nobody was around, the ones that you would have imaginary adventures with? Well, I had my share of imaginary adventures. And that friend, unlike many that were made up by small children, was the one and only Peter Pan. But that was a long time ago. And he was imaginary. A figment of my five year old imagination. He was not real and he definitely was not… standing in my bedroom when I'm eighteen years old.

"What the HELL is going on here?" I shouted, more to myself, not the imaginary boy standing in my room.

"Does that mean you remember me?" he asked. Remember him? I thought. What is this, some kind of twisted continuation of that strange dream, or just a regression back to childhood? And so, not knowing what to do, I just waited, hoping that I would wake up from this strange dream. "It's… It's me, Peter. Peter Pan."

And so, I decided to go down the most logical path possible. "Peter Pan doesn't exist. He's just a character in a children's novel."

The imaginary boy seemed almost… hurt. "What? What do you mean? Of course I exist, I'm right here, in this very room, as real as you are! Don't you remember the wonderful times we had together?" He was answered with silence. "How about our adventures with the mermaids? Do you remember them?"

"Mermaids don't exist either."

"Or the games that we played with the Indians?"

"Don't you mean Native Americans?"

"And the fairies! Don't you remember the fairies? You love fairies- Don't you remember them?"

I shook my head and sighed. Logic, Laura, Logic. "I don't believe in fair-" No sooner did I say the first syllable of that word was I shut up. In the middle of my sentence the boy realized what I was going to say and dashed… no, actually… flew towards me and covered my mouth with his hand.

"Don't you EVER say that! I don't care what you believe in, I don't care how you've changed, you cannot say that, do you understand? Now I don't know how much you've changed over the years, and yes I know it has been many years that we have spoken, but I know that you would never say such horrible things!" And at that moment I saw the anger and frustration in his eyes, and I knew that something was real. What that something was was unclear to me. But I could feel his hand on my mouth and I could feel his breath on my face. I'll admit it, I was scared. Actually, I was terrified. He knew it. "Will you scream if I take my hand away?" he asked, and I shook my head. He removed his hand from my mouth and then went on to explain himself. "Look, please don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. Really. I just… I was frustrated when you said that. You know what happens when you say those words, don't you? You remember fairies… don't you?"

"When… when the first baby laughed for the first time, its laugh broke into a thousand pieces, and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies…and every time a child says, 'I don't believe in fairies,' there is a fairy somewhere that falls down dead" I said softly. Yes, of course I knew about fairies. Heck, if you looked about my room you'd see the existence of my belief in their existence. I mean, I just quoted my favorite description of them from my favorite book… Peter Pan. But we are all told to squelch those childish fantasies as we grow older. A college student has no time for these things. So if Peter Pan is just a character in a book, who was sitting on my bed?

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I just told you, I'm Peter Pan," he said, and then sighed "and… I'm here because Neverland needs your help. I wouldn't have come otherwise, I want you to know. I realize that you want to grow up and forget my world but… we need you. I need you. Something horrible is happening in Neverland, something that is affecting your world as well as mine, and I need your help to fix it."

"So, why me? Out of all the people that know about the world-famous Peter Pan, why would you come here and ask me?"

"Laura, look at me, please. I mean look into my eyes" he said as he tilted my head toward him, "I know that you remember me. It was a very long time ago, I know. We used to have adventures- you used to come with me to Neverland, where we'd fight pirates, play with the Indians, go exploring… I know you remember that. And of all the children that have ever believed in me, out of all the children that dream of playing with Peter Pan, you truly did. Growing up makes it harder to believe in such things anymore. Most people give up on their dreams, but not you. You still have that magic inside of you, just waiting to burst out of you- I can see it! And I know you can feel it too!" He looked at me, straight at me, for some sign of recognition, but I guess he didn't see anything. He sighed, head down, eyes looking toward my sheets.

"It's probably hard to believe what I'm telling you," he continued, "and I don't really know what's happening so I can't explain everything to you, but… I need your help. I really do. And if you remember me, you'd know that Peter Pan doesn't ask for help very often. But I'm asking you now," and as he continued his plea, he looked at me again with such determination and desperation that I had never seen before, "Laura, please believe me. Please help me. I'm not going to force you to come or to do anything that you don't want to. If you come with me, we can destroy whatever Hook is devising and save both my world and yours. But if you choose to stay, and I'll understand if you do, don't blame me for whatever Hook does to this world. So choose. Will you stay, or will you come with me?"

I could have just said no. I could have ignored my thoughts and memories of a time long ago and gone with my initial 'flight' instinct and just stayed home. However, at that moment I felt something. I wasn't quite sure what, but whatever it was, I felt it. This boy, if he really was Peter Pan, understood exactly what I was going through. And his eyes. I felt something when I looked into his eyes. It was as if memories from childhood were flowing back to me. I got that feeling of freedom only presented to little children, that no matter what happens everything will be alright. That I don't need to worry about school, I mean I had close to a month, I could spare a little bit of time. What also caught me off guard was his mentioning of Hook. Maybe the Captain was the person in my dreams, maybe I wasn't being as silly as I thought. What if going to Neverland could stop these reoccurring nightmares?

So at that moment I had a choice. I could stay, where I knew I'd be physically safe. I'd still have the nightmares, but I would be comforted in my home, with things and places that I knew. Or I could go on this crazy adventure with someone that I hardly knew to a place that I thought was just an imaginary island. I had a choice. And at that moment, I made my choice.

"Alright, I'll go with you."