Danny

I tap my pencil against my desk idly as I wait for Miss Carl's raspy voice to dismiss us. I glance over at my father who is sitting with his back to me outside the classroom. There's a small window where all the kids can see their parents' disappointed faces. I can't see Dad though… he's facing away from me.

The children around me range from the decent kids… just unfortunate. Got caught on a bad day, ya know? Then there's people like Blake Rogers who is aiming a spit wad full of chewing gum at our teacher. I sigh, leaning on my elbows. I casually roll my eyes as she hollers at Blake and his gang. I stare at the blackboard. The loopy handwriting reads: DETENTION.

"Alright children," Miss Carl claps her hands twice. Parents outside turn their heads or meet her snake ones. "Detention is now dismissed… that is, for most of you. Blake Rogers, I would like you to stay an extra ten minutes." Her eyes meet mine for a split second. I cringe thinking that she's going to want to talk to me about my behavior… but she closes her wrinkled lips into a hard line and lets me go with a wave of her old hands.

I get up slowly, packing my things and heading out the door. I stop in front of where he is sitting, looking down at him as if he should be the ashamed child. He stands tiredly and shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers as we walk down the hallway and towards the car. I glance around the dark street where other parents are loading their kids into cars… the only reason we still had ours after the war was because Mom didn't know how to drive and Dad was off being a soldier. I sometimes think that the war was the best years of my life.

"Where is it?" I look around, my breath fogging in the cold, rainy weather. My father looks down at his feet for about a minute before pulling an umbrella out from his jacket and starting to walk home. He doesn't give an explanation, and he doesn't need to. My family has been running a fine line for months now… it only took a couple weeks for Dad to start drinking. Jane tried her best to be that tough girl adult that she had always strived to be when we were younger… but she doesn't seem to have that sort of strength anymore. As much as I look back on World War II and smile with fond memories of me and my mother huddled together as she told Peter Pan stories, I know that it took its toll on Jane.

My father offers no hospitality as he takes the umbrella for himself and walks down the dark sidewalk. My father turns to me as I walk in the rain, my blond hair hanging in my face as rain drips down my nose and cheeks. I think I ought to ask Jane to give me a haircut soon.

"That Blake kid give that to ya?" he asks, his voice is deep and unnatural. I remember the warm voice he used when he just got back, so happy to just be alive and back with his family again. With Mom…

"Yeah," I mutter, absently touching the deep purple bruise under my eye. This injury is also accompanied by hundreds of scrapes and bruises, but I don't even bother telling him.

"Why'd they bust you?" he looks away from me again, and towards our small house which is slowly coming into view. "I mean," he mutters when I don't answer. "You didn't do nothing' wrong, did ya?"

"They basically punished me on a matter of principal," I shrug, knowing he won't understand me. I'd be better off talking to a pigeon. "I get mugged and try to get the bully off of me and we're both found guilty. I should of just let him beat me to a pulp… then I wouldn't have to stay in that God awful place any more than I have to."

"Ah, well," he smirks from under the brim of his hat. "That's life. But now you've got to be a man about it," he punches my shoulder. I rub it, looking down at my walking feet. "You got any friends Daniel?"

"A few," I murmur.

"Why didn't they help you out?"

"They were scared," I shrug. "As they ought to be. Blake's a bully."

"Are they all girls or something?" he snorts, looking at me again. My teeth are chattering and my clothes are soaked through, but I'm still not invited under the umbrella. "You got a girl Danny?" he asks out of the blue. I scoff. "What?"

"I'm eight," I say simply. For my age bracket, girls are still supposed to be coody ridden. I know it's all just a bunch of bologna, but I need to fit in as much as possible, especially with other kids calling my dad a drunken bastard. I gulp. It's not as if I don't know it's true… it's just a pride thing I suppose.

We reach the house and Dad pulls out the key and unlocks the door. A crackling fire is burning in the sitting room but my father storms right down the hallway and towards his den… and his whiskey. I sigh, shrugging off my coat and folding it over the banister. I glance at the fire, wondering if I should indulge in its warmth. Then, I see Jane.

I watch her for a long time, just sleeping on the ground by herself. I laugh a little… She's strange, but I get the desire to lay in front of the fire on nights like this. I make my way into the room and take a couple logs for both the fireplace upstairs and the den. I tinkling in my ear makes me swat at the air, but it keeps coming. I feel like I'm going to get a headache.

I glance around me, appalled when I see a boy sitting in my mother's old chair. I drop the logs with a loud thud, making Jane shoot up to a sitting position. "Hey Danny," he says. He gets up from the chair, wearing a plain white shirt, trousers, and an unbuttoned vest. I stare at him with uncertainty. "I haven't seen you since you were very small," he smiles. He looked no older than fifteen. How could he have known me?

"W-who… what?"

"Danny," My sister's voice comes from behind me. I watch her warily, her hand holding my shoulder. "I'd like you to meet Peter Pan."

~Danny! :) Hope you all enjoyed another update! Review!