Hello everyone, Chellybaby here. Thank you to the few that subscribed to this story. I'm very thankful for that. Now, please read on and enjoy!

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-Morning in Neverland-

Peter's stirred at the first touch of sunlight on the home-tree, as he always did. It took only a few seconds for him to rouse himself sufficiently to float up from his bed. Stretching out mid-air, he yawned once before running his hand through his hair, grabbing belt and dagger and slotting them in place. There was no time to waste sleeping in at dawn, for it was when Neverland was most awake.

Morning in Neverland was always spectacular; forest covered so much of the island that when the first beams of sunlight hit the millions of leaves, vivid light shone onto the forest floor in a million shades of green. Scented candle-flowers' waxy petals opened at the exact moment the sun hit Mermaid Lagoon from over the waterfall, creating rainbows and a sweet aroma that spread through the entire Lost Wood. It was only this kind of morning that persuaded Peter to go out to collect breakfast. He never went out if the sun wasn't out, not for breakfast. On the days when the Lost Boys went to collect, Peter would stay in to practice sword fighting, or go out and talk to the mermaids, or play alone for a while in Treasure Cove, just beyond the Lagoon. Anyhow, Peter always made sure that his breakfasts were the best; the ripest, juiciest fruits, fresh water from the top of the stream and the freshest bread from Breadfruit Valley. Tinkerbell understood this concept, so she never dusted up the boys until breakfast was over. She would never rise so early, regardless.

Throwing all of the fruit into assorted misshapen bowls, Peter filched the large blanket covering the boys and woke them with his signature crow. When they groaned and turned over, he smugly revealed a plateful of bread chunks and the fruit. The effect was immediate. They pushed and shoved each other to get to their stools while Peter hovered above, reclining on a cushion of air and munching on the shiniest red apple of all. His imagination soared as fruit and bread flew in all directions. Despite this, none of it would be left over.

All but one of them were tanned from time in the sun, and none were over the age of twelve- except Peter, though he tended to forget his thirteen years more often that not. While he, Curly (a red and predictably curly-haired boy), and Slightly (a pale, contrastingly black-haired and blue-eyed boy) had lost the prominent tummies of childhood, they had not yet entered the phase of adolescence and sat somewhere on the front line of childhood.
"Apples, anyone?"
Nibs's caramel-coloured hair and big green eyes made him a very pretty little boy, and he was often teased by the others. Tinkerbell, and even the mermaids- the unkindest creatures one could ever have the misfortune to meet- had a hard time being callous towards him as his nature was one that was impossible to dislike.

"Strawberries! I want some strawberries!" Cubby- the smallest boy- cried, standing on his chair and leaning dangerously across the table. He tried to shake a shock of dark hair out of his eyes and tottered. Curly caught him and stuffed a large berry into the boy's mouth, while the others laughed and sneakily stole from each other's bowls.

"Stop!" Peter commanded suddenly, dropping onto the little space visible on the table. Something fell to the floor; a groan spread around the room.

"But what about the bread, Peter?" the food-conscious Marmaduke and Binky began, bowing their equally ginger heads and staring, open-mouthed, at the mess of crumbs on the floor. Being the only set of twins, they were required to look the same at all times: they mostly wore long shorts made of a light fur, with strips across their chest that crossed down to their hips. These would hold identical bows and arrows. With their complaint echoed by the other boys, they opened their mouths again, only to be interrupted.
"Be quiet!"
The room fell silent, except for Peter, who nonchalantly jumped from the table and replaced the now chipped plate. "See? All better." He dusted off the last piece of bread and hovered above the boys, a smile spreading across his face. "Now, who wants to know what we're going to do today?"
With the bread ordeal forgotten, everyone jumped onto their chairs and shouted, "What? What? Tell us, Peter!"

Flicking a curl out of his eyes and grinning out at the Lost Boys, Peter went higher.
"Tinkerbell! Let's dust up!"
A tinkling, like the ringing of a tiny glass bell, announced Tinkerbell emerging from the petal curtains of her 'room'- a whorl in the wood of the tree that Peter had dug out long ago and left the fairy to furnish according to her wishes. Being the only form of a woman most of the Lost Boys had seen for a long time, she both intrigued and slightly scared the Lost Boys. Her nature when Peter was not present had made the mermaids wary many a time. Tinkerbell yawned prettily and flew above the boys, making a shower of gold sparkles fall languidly from her gossamer-fine wings. Bringing with it a few sneezes, the dust brought a familiar warm shiver, then the floating sensation in their chests. When the dusting was done, Tinkerbell flew up to Peter and yawned again.

"Right, Lost Boys!" Peter flew out of the leafy opening of the home-tree and into the glare of the sun, shortly joined by the others, who were now fully attired, each with their own sword or bow. His shadow made a giant Peter on the wall. It distracted him for a few moments, before he bared his teeth again. "We're going to go to the top of the mountain, get some of those bright flowers-"
"-Dazzle Flowers?" Slightly offered. Peter glanced at him.
"We're going to go to the top of the mountain, get some Dazzle Flowers, and make some paint-" He was cut off by the cheering and loop-the-looping and a jovial clash of swords. "Wait! It gets even better." Seven pairs of eyes looked up expectantly. "I have a plan. And it involves Hook's ship and some paintbrushes…"

-

Some children might have thought that going to school was on the bottom of their list of priorities after becoming an orphan overnight, but I made the mistake of thinking that it would distract me. I had found it tolerable until the last lesson of the day. English was usually my favourite class, but that day it was my worst enemy, as the objective was the very one I'd wanted to ignore.

"Everyone, please write a detailed description of a person. It doesn't have to be realistic, but try to make it as convincing as possible." Mrs. Barnes looked fleetingly over all our heads, before settling behind her desk and picking up a pen to complete her own paperwork. Similarly, the rest of the class reached for their pens and settled calmly to their books, not pushing their luck on such an easy task. My book was at home, where it had remained since the last time I had English. Packing had hardly seemed a priority this morning. I breathed in the cold, dusty air, and tried to hide myself in my painfully scarlet jumper. I had a piece of rough paper with notes around the edge in front of me, though that was certainly not appropriate for a full task. As for the description itself… The only remaining person in my family portrait was me. The snow had not settled overnight, but even now the sprinkling had turned into an impertinent blanket of white, taunting me from outside. I hated it. Putting a stiff hand to the paper, my fingers gripped a pencil so hard that the paper tore. The visualization was painfully clear in my head. It flowed onto the paper as easily as ink to water.
"Amelia, you haven't written anything!" My table-neighbour peered over my shoulder half an hour later, her eyes wide as saucers. Amelia Darling always did her work.

"I know," I said in monotone. "But I don't feel like it right now."
"But…" she shifted in her seat. "You're going to get into trouble…"
I sighed, putting the pencil down to reach for a softer one. I could feel her gaze for a few long seconds, before the scratch of her pen picked up again.

As the class progressed, an orchestra of tapping pencils, feet and fingers filled the room. I took my time forming the figure and finished putting the sparkle in the eyes just as the bell rang. Perhaps it was luck that made Mrs. Barnes not notice that I handed nothing to her. The windows rattled with the screech of chairs being pushed back. Then paper rustled all around, footsteps rumbled, children laughed, and all of this was irrelevant as my drawing of mother smiled and beckoned me to a shimmering door that my hand had not created.
-

Marmaduke and Binky were the first to get in the water- or, more accurately, to drench the others with a twin-powered water bomb. Next came Curly, then a drowsy and water-fearing Cubby, then Slightly, Tootles, Nibs… Peter was somewhere in the shadows of the forest, retrieving the woollen blankets for after their baths. Normally he would be first in the spring, so he hadn't been happy at having to go back to the tree. He'd been feeling annoyed anyway as none of the pirates had been in the Jolly Roger, and he was tired from having taken one entire side of the ship for himself. He floated above the breakfast table and turned slowly around. The long, single ridge of wood where breakfast was arranged was clean (or, as clean as the boys could be bothered to make it). All… well, most of the bowls were put away. The blanket had been replaced on the bed and sprinkled with fairy dust, so it was clean. So why did something feel wrong? Peter frowned for a second, then shrugged and slipped out of the tree with the pile of blankets, humming tunelessly.

Earthy air filled Peter's lungs as he flew at top speed northwards. Dropping them on the large slab of hot rock called the Blue Boulder, he crept up behind an idle Tinkerbell.
"Boo!"
The fairy jumped up, tottered backwards and twirled over in the air, falling to within an inch of the stone ground. Enthusiasm restored, Peter leapt from her tiny swat and ran to the edge of the steaming pool. The leafy vines holding his sword and dagger lost their grip, and the weapons clattered onto the stony surface outside the spring. He hovered ten feet above the deepest part of the pool and crowed to the others. The twins continued to play water-tag. As everyone was so tired, and because of how thick the steam was, only Nibs watched for the giant splash that would be Peter. A spherical object bounced across the rock outside the pool. Curly cursed and got out to retrieve it. Nibs felt a movement on the water, then something heavy, followed by an impressive splash and a wave that crashed up the sides of the spring. Promptly, he started to clap.

"What was that?" A blonde head appeared, upside down. "Who jumped?"

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So, what did you think? Here's where you push the button below and tell me :3 Personally, I really liked this chapter. My new target is to go easy on semi-colons (though you wouldn't know this as my lovely friend and beta-reader CullensGrl corrected it for me!)

Hugs to you all,

~chellybaby xo