All right!!!!! I'm glad I have a few people who like it so far:D So, here is chapter 2...I just thought I'd mention something funny that happened last night. I was having a bad dream, but it ended with a funny scenario because one of the Lost Boys, who you will meet in a future chapter, called me on my cell phone to ask me if I wanted to come outside and play. I was baffled because there are no cell phones in Neverland! But he told me he'd made it out of wood...lol, I found it pretty funny when I awoke. Anyway, here we go...

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or anyone/thing from the original story. I own Rebecca and anything else that you don't recognize.

Chapter Two: Pranks?

One hour later, I had written a little over two pages of, well, junk. It really was junk, but it was getting the assignment done. I knew I would not get a good grade on this, but I would turn in something, anyway. And then I stopped and looked at my sentences. So many sentences that were just pulled from nowhere stared back at me.

"This is bad. Really, really bad. I know, but I need to keep writing it. Meh," I argued with myself. Back to typing...but typing what? Comparing immigration to a jungle? Comparing the United States of America in this book's era to a jungle? Everything had to be compared to a jungle, didn't it? And I had to make sure to include some things about the immigrants themselves...such misled people they were, in my opinion. Thinking America held the 'American Dream.' "How could anyone believe something like that, at least in this older era? America was a place that took advantage of the millions of immigrants, giving them low-wage jobs while high-class Americans got rich and were corrupt politicians on their fat bums." I shook my head and typed this out, or something similar to it, anyway, without use of the word 'bums.'

Thinking of this always made me have such soar feeling about my country for...I don't know...having a façade of a mask of the so-called 'American Dream.' I mean, immigrants expected to get rich and live happier lives without being cheated. I supposed everyone was cheated everywhere in this world in one way or another. "Kind of like meeting Jared," I thought. Jared had been my crush in eighth grade. Every girl wanted to be his girlfriend. He was hot! Jared was absolutely gorgeous! That is, on the outside. On the inside, he was a nasty, manipulative jerk.

"Perhaps I ought to incorporate something along those lines into my paper?" I thought about it. "Yes, why not? Don't judge a book by its cover, yada yada yada…the cliché stuff. I do need all the garbage I can gather to make this fill at least four pages." In it went, taking up a good 'nother couple of paragraphs. "Okay, I am at the top of page four. What time is it now?" My clock read 11:57 PM. "Darn it! I'm not going to get this in on time!" I scrambled to write some more, making it halfway down the fourth page. "Oh no! Come on, you've got to reach at least the bottom of the fourth page. Please?"

"She works too hard." I literally jumped about a foot out of my chair at the sudden masculine voice. Gasping in my jump, I spun around to face my window, nearly yelling, "Who's there?!" But my window screen was dark and blank. There was no movement outside, just silence. And a brush of wind through the trees that startled me too.

"I really don't have time for this," I told myself, but nevertheless, I cautiously tiptoed to my window. I was quite frightened by that voice, although I had to admit that it had sounded ever so familiar. Where had I heard it before? I reached the window and cupped my hands over my eyes so I would have better vision looking out into the night. I saw nearby tree branches silhouetted against the moon. I saw stars; nothing out of the ordinary, though if I had been really paying attention to them, I would have noticed that the stars seemed to be laughing as they twinkled. I found my eyes searching for the second star to the right again, and I snapped them shut. I could not let myself get caught up in that at the moment. Still a bit shaky, I said softly, "Is anyone there?" Silence answered me. I sighed and tore myself from my window, rushing back to my laptop to finish my work. The problem was, I had completely run out of steam for this darn paper. Think hard as I might, I had nothing more to write. "Drat," I spat in frustration. My brain was no longer working for this particular subject. "Ah well, I shall just have to send it in as it is and get whatever grade comes to me."

"Grades? Psh!" someone whispered. My pulse was pounding and I ran back to the window. Again, nothing.

"All right, if someone is trying to pull a prank on me, it's really not funny. I'm trying to work and this paper is already late as it is! So, please, whoever you are, stop scaring me!" I felt like a loony, like I was scolding nothing and no one, for there was no sign of anyone aside from myself. I hurried back to my desk and quickly made up a couple of concluding sentences about how immigrants had been deceived and whatnot. It would have to do. "That's it. No time to edit. Just send it now," I told myself. I went onto the Internet and located a website containing my professor's digital drop box. I loaded my paper and sent it, shaking my head and tsk-ing. "Rebecca, when will you ever learn not to procrastinate? Procrastination, as much as I love it, will be the death of me!" Another noise startled me again, but this time it was the phone ringing. I irritably picked it up and answered. It was my mother again, asking how I was doing on my paper.

"I'm all done, mom," I said with a heavy sigh.

"All right, good! You should go to bed now. You sound tired."

"Psh...I'm not promising anything this time."

"Hon, we will be getting in very late, so don't wait up for us. I do not want to come home to find you reading your Peter Pan books or watching TV, understand? You are in college now."

"Mom, you're right, I am in college now, which means I ought to be able to decide things for myself, thanks," I retorted, annoyed.

"Rebecca, you are 18 and officially a grown up-"

"MOM! Don't say that! Don't ever say that!"

"Bec, it's true. You are a grown-up whether you like it or not. The sooner you stop pretending, the better. You still believe in Peter Pan, don't you?"

"Yep. Bye, mom," I said, attempting to end the conversation. I could not believe what she was saying to me!

"Don't you dare hang up on me, Bec! You cannot believe in Peter Pan forever."

"Watch me," I challenged viscously.

"Becky, look, it was cute at first, but now this obsession is causing you to fall behind in school. There are more important things in your life now. It is time for you to forget the idea of being a child forever because it is only stopping you from becoming an adult."

"Mom, I don't want to become an adult! Don't you get it?" I exclaimed. There was silence on the other end.

"You really never want to grow up?" It was as if she had never heard me say that before! And after all the times I had told her, confided in her...I was tearing up.

"Darn right I don't," I spat harshly. More silence.

"Rebecca, are you even done with that paper yet?"

"Yes!"

"Have you even started it?"

"Mom! I told you I finished it!"

"I don't see why I should believe you. Just look at your grades. You keep saying how you are behind. If you are done with it, how good is it?"

"Huh?"

"The quality, Rebecca. Is it a good paper that will receive a good grade?"

"I...uh...sure...well..." I stuttered. Sometimes I hated myself for my inability to lie to my mother.

"It figures. All you do at college is read your Peter Pan books when you should be working."

"That's not completely true!" I almost smacked myself for saying 'completely.' I had just revealed that it was partially true…more than partially, in fact.

"Rebecca, I am taking away your books."

"WHAT?!" I screamed into the phone.

"And your blanket."

"Wh..." I could not believe my ears. My blanket? My dearest possession? My best friend? She was taking it away? "Mom, you can't..." I croaked as my eyes filled with tears when I looked at my beautiful blanket. Other kids my age might have scoffed at me and told me to get over it, but after eighteen years of life, I still clung to my blanket.

"Oh, I can, and I will. Like you said, 'watch me.' If this is the only way you will become an adult, so be it." She was not kidding. Not in the least. Not even threatening! I knew that voice. She would really do this.

"Mom, no, please...I will do better, I promise."

"Promise? Promise? You've been promising that for ages! That is one promise I can't trust!"

"Ya know, some time it might carry through if you and dad…" I trailed off, as I could not finish that sentence. My parent's marriage troubles…it was just too painful for me. And anyway, she just interrupted me with stabbing words.

"Don't you dare use our marriage troubles as an excuse for your problems with schoolwork. Don't you dare." The way she said 'dare' sent chills down my spine.

"PLEASE MOM!"

"I mean it, everything I've just said! GO TO BED!"

"I will go to bed, just don't take my books or my blanket," I begged, tears spilling now.

"When we get home, you had better be asleep." The line at the other end clicked. She had hung up. I dropped the phone into its cradle and screamed, "NOOO!!!" Overly dramatic? Not when your best friend and favorite books are going to be taken from you. I let my face fall into my blanket and sobbed. What was I going to do? My blanket and Peter Pan made up so much joy in my life...

Half and hour later, I had calmed a little and felt rebellious. Stupid grown-ups thought they knew everything! Defying my mother, I made myself some tea and sat in front of the television with the steaming hot tea and a bowl of ice cream, fudge swirl to be specific. I was curled up with my blanket and watching the Disney movie Peter Pan, my favorite movie of all time, when I heard it: a thump coming from my room, which happened to be located directly over the playroom. "Good grief, whoever is trying to prank me is determined," I muttered, getting up from the comfortable couch and wandering upstairs. The intruder was bothering me at the wrong moment. I was seething with fury and felt like I could kill someone.

I left the TV on so that whoever it was would think that I was still downstairs. I meant to catch the person this time. What I didn't expect was whom I would catch. Could it be my annoying, evil neighbor, Jaime? That kid was always up to something bad, such a punk, so it would make perfect sense. After all, he had put a bomb in our mailbox, exploding the mail. What a mess that had been! Everyone had been furious, but we couldn't prove that he had done it, so there was nothing we could do. So infuriating!

As silently as possible, if silence can be trifled with, I reached the top landing and literally slid along the wall to my room. I had grabbed a large kitchen knife downstairs, just in case, and now I held it out in front of me. Oh yes, I could hear some movement coming from inside my room, and that voice again.

"I don't know what it is! No, stop! Be careful with that! Don't knock it over! She might hear you!" My palm was sweating as I tightened my grip on the knife. 'Time to put my small amount of fencing training to use,' I thought. My heart was literally pounding in my chest in exhilaration and I wondered if my skin could be seen moving up and down with the pulse, should I take a close enough look. Just then, something fell, perhaps a book. "I told you not to knock that over!" the voice hissed. That voice…I knew it from somewhere and the origin was on the tip of my tongue…so frustrating! Then there was the strangest beautiful sound of delicate bells and...what sparkles would sound like if you could hear them.

"What on Earth?" I whispered, and then shut up as I realized I'd said it out loud. 'Cripers, I hope he didn't hear that!' I thought. 'Okay, here's my door...' I was nearly hyperventilating, and desperately trying to calm myself down. My lamplight was still emanating from inside my room, so I would be able to see the intruder. Hopefully the person was not wearing a mask or something. 'Oh! I'm so smart!' I thought with extreme sarcasm. 'I could and should just call the police!' With that thought, I started to move away from the wall to the nearest phone, but a floorboard creaked and I stopped dead in my tracks, holding my breath.

"What was that? Did you hear it too?" the voice asked...whoever was with him. 'It's now or never,' I told myself. 'No time to call the police. I've got to handle this as I am.' Both of my hands were incredibly sweaty and my limbs trembled in fear, but in a swift movement, I yanked my door back and extended the knife threateningly.

"HANDS UP! WHO'S THERE?!" I shouted. At first I saw nothing in the dim light. The next moment I heard movement on my right and sucked in a jagged breath as I whipped around to face...my jaw dropped as I scanned my eyes from the dagger pointed at me to the person holding it. As I held my blanket to my breast, my knife slipped from my hand and bounced on the rug. I was looking at Peter Pan.

Chapter three is written...so review, please, and I'll update!!!!