AHHHH! You guys don't know why I'm so happy but it's snowing where I am! Haha here's the third chapter…. WARNING: Lots of drama.

As we soared through the air, as if on angel's wings, I allowed my mind to wander. After a few minutes I focused on Peter's freckled face as he conversed with Tink. I took special notice on his lips. The way that they shaped around his words was utter perfection. It was as if God had carved his face and personality to be perfectly suited to my conditions for a young man.

Must have a sense of humor (I do tend to tell jokes)

Must have a caring demeanor towards children (my younger brother as an example)

Honest to a fault; explains things on a need to know basis

Redheads are preferable, but black is also accepted

MUST CARE FOR MY FEELINGS

"Ugh," a grunt escaped Peter's throat as his shaggy red hair yet again caught in his eyes. In annoyance, he flipped his hair sideways. My breath automatically caught in my lungs as I marveled in the way his adorable nose scrunched and his naturally styled eyebrows folded together.

Stay in this Claire. I felt my body begin to rise as my thoughts spiraled upward. He doesn't want to get to know you, he only wants to help Mother and Jane. They were always his favorites after all. Don't get too attached. Almost immediately I began to sink downward, as if I were on the Titanic. Cold thoughts, like icy water, began to flood the gears in my mind.

"We've arrived," Peter's words rang like church bells through my racing mind. All of my thoughts were banished to oblivion as a blinding light stunned me. The last thing I saw was Peter's hand speeding through the air and smacking into my eyes to shield my vision.

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BOOM. Splash! Clink! CRACK! Dazed, I slowly rose to my unsteady feet. My mind couldn't process the macabre scene in front of me. Smoking chips of shields, spears, canoes, and ships were littered around my bare feet. A sprinkle of blood here and there was scattered throughout the dunes, which immediately put me on high alert. As I was beginning to obtain a little inkling of understanding, a crackling noise began to fill the air behind me. I whirled around and gaped when I realized an enormous group of palm trees was covered in blue flames. My imagination spiraled and I could almost hear the trees screaming and pleading for water, their salvation. Desperate, my eyes darted around the ruined beach for something, anything to help save them. That is when I noticed a beautifully crafted sword, buried with the hilt upward in the sand, catch the sun's dying rays and sparkle into my eyes. A strange desire burned into my mind as I grasped the sword and yanked it out of its watery grave. Everything, the sounds of cannons, swords, and flames, the desolate beach, and the scarlet lagoon nearby faded away as I wielded this amazing weapon. Every feature, from the polished handle to the needle-sharp tip, sparked my wonder. This sword is mine.

Suddenly, a native boy sprinted onto the beach, gripping a spear and a shield. "Who are you?!" he questioned quickly and warily.

"Claire, daughter of Wendy and sister of Jane. Peter Pan brought me here." I explained my situation in simple terms as I tucked the sword into the green ribbon of my nightgown.

The boy, who seemed sixteen or seventeen, showed immense relief at my explanation. As he clenched my hand in his soft tan one, a blush spread to my cheeks. Again Claire? Really?! I thought angrily as his black eyes met my chocolate ones. After a minute of deliberation as to go with him or not, I succumbed and let him lead me away.

Almost immediately, an immense force jerked my arm the other way. I shrieked as I was hauled away from the boy. Begging and pleading I wailed, "Help! Someone! Please!" Then my mind put two and two together. I realized two things. One, that the person dragging me away was a pirate, judging from the stench of old sweat and grime. Two, was that I could easily defend myself. I vowed that I would not be like my mother and sister, helpless and afraid when the time comes. So I trained myself to be a warrior. Boy does Peter have some things to learn about me. Ha-ha, I laughed sarcastically in my mind.

I let my mind wander as I allowed my body to have control. I quickly launched the man over my amber curls and flushed cheeks into a sand dune. He rose, his body shaking with anticipation, rage, and was that a little fear? My eyes narrowed as I faced the pirate. I slowly dragged my fist through the air, digging my nails into my palms. With one fatal swoop, I beckoned for him to come closer. A harsh cry sliced through the humid jungle morning as our swords clashed. Out of the corner of my eye, I witnessed the native boy frozen in his tracks, open-mouthed, observing this spectacle. More natives were moving to join him.

My mind flashed back to the fight as a sharp pain shot through my nerves, setting them on end. Blood dripped down my pale green nightgown as a newfound shallow cut stung along my abdomen. Now extremely determined, I kicked him in the unmentionables and he fell moaning to the sand. I flourished my sword along his chest and exclaimed, "Checkmate." My emotions flooded through my closed emotional gates and a tear trickled down my burning face. Mercy for the pirate won out and I helped him up. "Leave and don't ever come back," my rage poured out into these words, hissed through my clenched teeth. He sprinted out of the sand, faster than a speeding bullet.

The pirate only stopped once. Warily, he turned around and called, "The name's Tompkins by the way. For the mercy you have showed me, I vow to return it." With that, he vanished into the jungle.

"Miss Claire?" I automatically recognized the native boy's voice.

"Yes?" I replied, suddenly feeling drained of all energy, physically and mentally.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he inquired.

"Perhaps some other time," a pause then turned to extreme embarrassment as I realized I didn't know the boy's name. "What is your name?"

"Little Wave," he replied proudly.

Such an odd name. I pondered over this for a few moments and then dread began to fill my mind. "PETER!" I screamed sharply, startling Little Wave. "Where are you?!" Then, a crimson mop of hair caught my attention. Peter was lying about twenty feet away, unconscious on the sand, just past a group of fairly large boulders. Paying no attention to my wound, I sprinted over to him. Time seemed to have slowed drastically as I made my way over. Desperate to reach him, I failed to notice a cannon ball slam into a boulder near me, which in turn sent me hurtling through the air towards the flaming trees. The last thing I heard was Little Wave screaming words of caution and fear, "Claire! NO!"

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Teehee. I just realized I am so evil leaving you guys with this. I promise I will update tomorrow or the day after. Please review!