I just stared at him like I didn't understand a word he said. How could I? It's one thing to just say that you're Peter Pan, but a total other one to say, "By the way, I brought you to a magical land."
"You know," he started, "you really shouldn't have tricked me like that. It would have been so much easier if you came here on your own willingly. After all, this place provides you will all those things you wished for and more." It would have been easier believing him if it weren't for the fact that I could feel all the secrets he was keeping.
"I don't know how many times I'll have to tell you this, but I didn't wish for anyone to kidnap me. Besides, for all I know that drug you hit me with could have hallucinogenic properties. I could be in a warehouse somewhere and not even know," I denied. There's no way this kid can expect me to believe him.
He stared at me stonily. Getting off his rock, he walked swiftly over to me and grabbed my arm. "Come on," he commanded. Then he proceeded to drag me through the underbrush. Fifteen minutes later we were standing on the edge of a large cliff that looked over part of an island. From the top I could see even more dense jungle surrounding the island. Far down there was a beach and a cove area. Extending from the beach was a black sea reaching as far as the eye could see.
"Still think you're in a warehouse?" he challenged. I didn't have to look at his face to see the look of triumph on it.
How was I supposed to just believe that this was Neverland of all places? It's a made up place, a story. And Peter Pan? The flying stunt was unexplainable. Unless…
"Can I borrow your knife for a minute?" I asked emotionlessly. Whatever response he had predicted would come from me was clearly not this. His eyebrows shot up into his hair. It would have made me laugh if the situation hadn't felt so serious.
"Any particular reason?" he asked curiously.
"I promise I'm not going to use your knife to kill myself or you. I'm using it as confirmation, if it helps," I explained looking straight into his eyes. He looked at me considering his choice before finally handing over his knife.
I tried to turn away from him to go through with my plan, but he put his hand on my shoulder to stop me. "There's really no point in doing that. We're in my home now. I could magically appear by you anytime I want. Nothing is secret from me," he explained it like it was a fact, but I could see how humorous he found my situation.
"Fine, then," I replied as nonchalantly as possible. Once he gave me the knife, I glanced down at it for a minute. The knife was fairly thin, but incredibly sharp. Oh, it'll do, I thought to myself. I knew that this was really the only way for me to prove to myself that what I was experiencing was real or not. I had never been able to hurt myself or be hurt in any dream I'd had before, not even the tiniest paper cut. I always woke up before anything could happen. I could jump off this cliff, but who knows if Peter would actually save me or just get a sick sense of pleasure watching me fall to my doom should it be real.
Finally picking up the courage, I brought the blade to the tip of my left index finger. I noticed Peter watching curiously, though I was sure he could guess what I was about to do at this point. Giving myself a countdown of three, I pushed the knife against my finger tip. Just pretend it's like when Grandma had to check her blood sugar. Not a big deal. I didn't gasp or wince when I did it. All I did was close my eyes and hope that when I opened them, I'd wake up in my bed. Opening my eyes and watching the blood slowly bubble up from the pin prick was all the confirmation I needed.
This was Neverland and I was stuck with Peter Pan. Great…