This is my first time posting a story on fanfiction, though I have been reading stories on this sight forever...so PLEASE go easy on me when you review...please review? Reviews are much appreciated...but no flames, please! Anyway, I'll say ahead of time that this is based on the Disney Peter Pan. That is what first made me fall in love with Peter Pan, but don't get me wrong. I've read the book twice and seen the 2003. I just really wanted to base my story on Disney, but please don't let that stop you from reading it! I know that Disney isn't exactly popular on this sight, but please give me a chance!!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or Tinker Bell or any of the original story...though I sooooo wish I did!!! I do own Rebecca and any future new characters or things to come...anything you don't recognize. Anyway, ON WITH THIS!!!!!!!!

Chapter One: Dreams and a Paper

"Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning...good grief, where is that star?" I squinted my eyes seemingly in vain as I balanced my bum on the windowsill. Eighteen. Eighteen years old now. Did that mean I was grown up? I shuddered at the thought. 'All right, so I am a first-year in college...I'm still a child!' I thought insistently. "I had better still be a child. I mean, being eighteen only means I can buy cigarettes and porn and vote. It's not like I have kids or pay bills yet. Lovely, I'm thinking out loud."

Shaking my head, I pried my eyes away from the night sky and went over to my ever-growing collection of Peter Pan books from various places and people, but mostly bought off of the Internet. I was going to, as weird as it was, read one out loud to...okay, so I hoped that Peter Pan himself was listening outside my window. I mean, I had a pretty big flat roof extending from my window, which would make a great spot for him to sit and relax with Tinker Bell and listen to me read. I gathered my knitted blanket, the one I'd had since I was a baby, the one that looked like a ball of threads, some knitted and some knotted together. But to me, this blanket was a beautiful and prized possession. I also took my newest knitted blanket made by my great aunt, the same woman who had made my first blanket, positioned the two on my bed, grabbed the Disney book, Peter Pan and Captain Hook, and flipped it open. I felt like I was five years old again, with an audience of two blankets, but I was alone and having fun.

Tonight, instead of lying down, I decided to remain standing and act out the story. I looked at my waiting blankets, and then at the numerous Disney Peter Pan pictures I had printed from the Internet over time. They covered the back of the door to my room and the front of my closet door. Feeling a mischievous look creep into my face, inspired by those pictures, my eyes became sinister beneath my brows and my mouth spread into a toothy menacing smile. I still believed in Peter Pan, fairies, and Neverland, and of course magic. Always had, always would, and I sincerely hoped that Peter was hiding himself outside my window listening and watching me, as I was about to put on quite a show.

I opened my door and glanced down the hall. Darkness. There was no noise coming from the playroom downstairs; my mother and brother and sister were out at some swimming event. I hurried down anyway to turn the lights off. For some reason, I did not want any lights on except for the ones in my room. That done, I scurried back up to my room and clanged the door shut. I raced excitedly to my closet. Not only would I put on a performance, but I would also dress up, and as Peter Pan! I got out my Halloween costume, which consisted of a collared green tunic and a matching green hat with a red feather. As for pants, I just used my blue and white plaid pajama pants, and navy blue slippers for shoes. I transformed myself into my hero. My hair was tucked up and under my cap and I wore a brown belt around my waist with a cheap plastic sword. I wished it was a dagger, but I made do with what I had. Ready now, I looked at the book and giggled to myself. I picked it up and read it out loud, a bit quickly because I was anxious to start my pretending.

After finishing the book, I smacked it shut and tossed it over to my pile of Peter Pan books. Whispering, "Peter, I hope you're watching me," I gripped my sword and whisked it out. I looked at my audience, excited energy pumping in my veins. "Did you know there was and still is a boy named Peter Pan who never grows up?" I asked in a British accent. My thoughts got carried away. 'Oh, how I want that accent to be natural! Some day I shall go to London and settle there and obtain a natural British accent, and then I'll write stories and novels and perform in musical theatre...hold it, I'm supposed to be performing now!' I continued to talk to my blankets. I knew I looked weird, worse than weird, like a fool, but like I said, I was having fun by myself.

"Peter could also fly! Can you imagine that? Flying? Soaring gay and carefree through the air! His fairy friend, Tinker Bell is always by his side and they play together. Peter and Tink live in a far away place called Neverland. It is an island in a star, the second star to the right and straight on 'til morning. And Peter is the captain of the Lost Boys, little boys who fell out of their prams as babies and who were brought to Neverland from Kensington Gardens. I am not making this up! It is all true! Peter even has an arch nemesis, the terrible and infamous Captain James Hook. Once, in a fair fight, Peter cut off Hook's hand, and now a hook sits where his hand used to be. He uses his hook to intimidate and attack those around him, but Peter is not scared of him. No, Peter is too brave for that! He actually enjoys fighting with the captain. It is rather fun for him!"

Here, I attempted to demonstrate that grand fight. I set into the on guard position, legs bent and feet perpendicular, left arm out in back, right arm holding my plastic sword. I was ready to lunge, and I did, crying, "Take THAT and THAT!" to an invisible Captain Hook. I parried his return attacks. "You see how it is done, do you not?" I asked my audience as I played out my own version of the battle, balancing only certain spots on the carpet under my feet because I saw it replaced by rocks in the midst of water. I made an exaggerated gasp as Hook sliced at my side, just missing me. I only hoped that my audience was seeing this invisible Hook as I was.

As he tried to put a gash in me, I leaned slightly to the side, just out of the way of his sword, and then took my chance and lunged, swiping my sword down upon his wrist. An ear-shattering scream followed from him as his bloody hand fell to the ground and he clutched his wrist, seeping with blood. Perhaps I should have been grossed out, but instead I snickered and picked up his hand. And then there was a growl behind me. I whipped around to see a giant mossy-green crocodile in the surrounding water. I got another malicious grin as I tossed the hand to the crocodile, and it gulped up the hand in a second, licking its chops in delight.

I turned back to Hook, who was staring at me, wide-eyed with shock and fury. He looked at the crocodile and screamed again as the beast crept toward him. He turned and fled, crying, "YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, PAN! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE! SMEEEE!!!!!" His first mate threw a clock at the crocodile, trying to fend it off, but the crocodile swallowed the clock and began to tick from inside. I sat on the rock under me, leaned back, and laughed. A moment later, I was on my feet again, beating my chest and crowing in triumph! Ring! I jumped at least a foot off the floor when I heard my cell phone ring. There I was, back in my room with pink carpeting and flowery blue ribbon and green vine wallpaper.

"Wow," I whispered. "It was all so...real. And amaz-" Ring! The phone went off again and I looked at it, wanting to tear it apart and hammer it to death for bringing me out of my fantastically real fantasy. But I dragged myself over to it and picked it up. "Hello?"

"Rebecca?"

"Hi, mom. Ca va?"

"Huh?"

"It's French. What's up?"

"Oh, I just wanted to check up on you. You are doing work, right?" she asked suspiciously. "I know you have a paper due tomorrow."

"Yea...about that..." Cripers, I was not good at lying to her! "Yep, I'm working."

"Working on playing Peter Pan?" She knew me too well for my own good.

"Well...I'll get back on track as soon as I get off the phone with you." Another lie. "I am doing okay with my paper, mom. Don't worry about anything."

"Becky, I know you better than that. Seriously, hon, you need to get to work on school things. I want you to promise me you will when we hang up, k?" I groaned. She also knew that I kept my promises!

"Just trust me that I will-"

"Bec! Promise! It's the only way I know you'll follow through," she insisted.

"Fine," I grumbled in annoyance. "I promise."

"All right, honey, we'll be home in a few hours...maybe more. You can never tell how long these swim meets will last."

"Yea, I know. Love you, mom."

"Love you too."

"Bye."

"Buh-bye." I clicked the phone into its cradle and sighed. Erg, I had been planning on going back to reading my Peter Pan books! Oh well. I supposed I had done enough procrastinating, and a promise was a promise, after all. I went and sat down at my desk with my laptop computer in front of me. I opened Microsoft Word and set up the page to have double-spaced text. And then I stared at the blank page. I stared at it for a good few minutes.

"Man, I really don't want to do this right now. Not ever, I guess. Okay, you promised, Rebecca. Focus...a paper on the book that you did not even read. Great. How am I going to do this?" I looked at the syllabus. Like I thought, the paper had to be four to five pages long. Ah! I grabbed the 300-plus-page book and opened to chapter three, where I had last left off. I knew that there was no way I could finish this book and still write the darn paper in time. "What time is it, anyway?" I glanced at my clock and saw that it was already 10:00 PM. There was one thing I had managed to keep from telling my mother: the paper was due by midnight. "That does count as tomorrow, technically. I'm not really keeping something from Mom," I told myself. Taking a pad of paper, I jotted down some notes. "Okay, I can compare the title to a jungle, which will hopefully give me a page." I began to type.

The second chapter is written and all set to go...but I want some reviews first, please!!!! And if no one is interested in me continuing to update, well...I shall know from a lack of reviews:( But I REALLY want to keep this story going so even if you didn't enjoy this chapter, please give me a chance. The second chapter is more exciting, anyway. THANK YOU:) :D