Chapter Two:

The Blue Eyed Boy

Izzy POV

For now on, may the odds not ever be in my favor when it comes to making decisions. I could be snuggled in my cool bed back home on Pirate Island and then ley in the sun and play in the ocean on the warm summer July day in Pirate Island. But now, now I'm an unwanted house guest to a house I don't even live in anymore and before I know it I'll be on display at a museum, locked in a glass box decorated with fake palm trees and plastic doubloons. And there would be a coin slit below along with a bolded sign that reads: Real Life Pirate! Insert Coin Below and She'll Talk! Either that or I'll be sent to the nearest insane asylum.

I found myself confined to an unfamiliar wooden chair inside a beach house that had morphed into something unrecognizable during my absence. The scent of the sea and memories of my horrid childhood were overshadowed by the reality of a bizarre family reunion. My pirate attire, once a symbol of freedom and adventure, now felt like an ill-fitting costume in this domestic drama. Surrounded by seven curious nieces and nephews, their innocent eyes fixated on my every move, I attempted to muster patience. Two little rascals, the youngest of their four sons, each on either side of me, stared with unblinking curiosity as if I were some peculiar creature from a tale they'd heard. Despite my efforts to be gentle because I knew they truly meant no harm, irritation bubbled beneath the surface. These kids, the spawn of my long-lost sister, seemed more like a nuisance than family. Ria, my supposed sister, was in the kitchen, brewing a cup of coffee because if there was anything this woman needed more of it was caffeine.

The aroma mixed with the salty air, creating a disorienting blend of scents. My father sat in a chair, looking like a frail relic of the past, while my…..brother-in-law-... Hector wandered about the room, perplexed and bewildered, mirroring the chaos in my own mind. The girls, my nieces…(oh how it pains my mind to think like that) taking after their mother, eyed me with a mix of condescendence. I couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance as they tried to emulate the woman who was supposed to be my sister. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, longing for the freedom of the seas and the familiar faces of Jake and Cubby. In an attempt to distract myself from the situation, I stole a glance at the clock on the wall, an item that seemed to mock me. Time, a concept that held little significance in Neverland, now governed my interactions with these strangers.

Ria returned from the kitchen, holding a steaming cup of coffee. She handed it to me, and I accepted it with a forced smile, although I quickly dumped it into a nearby plant the minute she turned her back and shot a deathly glare at whichever one of the children threatened to tell. The rich aroma of the steaming brew failed to ease the tension in the room.

"Alright, Isabella," Ria spoke, breaking the awkward silence. "I've held my tongue for forty solid minutes about this. Now I want an answer and I want it now. Tell me—-."

"Lady I'm not telling you anything until you let me leave!" I interrupted.

"But if you leave…then you can't tell us anything." One of the younger sons slowly pieced together.

"That is the point buster," I then clenched my jaw, my patience wearing thin. "Now let me out of this house! I-I wanna go home!"

"And where is home Isabella?" My eyes widened and my face grew warm.

"…Neverland." I answered flatly. A moment of silence and staring went by, but they all soon burst out laughing at me. Even my father let out a little chuckle. However, I noticed that one of the children, a young son who had bright blue eyes instead of brown ones and looked to be about eleven years old, simply looked at me in full curiosity instead of cackling like a hyena like his parents and siblings. But his face was quickly hidden when his father stepped in front of him, blocking him.

"HAH ha! Ah that's a hot one!" Hector exclaimed, slapping his thigh. "Looks like somebody's been watching far too many motion pictures made in the States! I could've sworn they had just come out with one about Neverland and Peter Pan! Oh it's nothing but a bunch of fairy tales!"

"Who said a fairy tail can't be real piano teeth!?" I asked as his face quickly dropped into an insulted scowl.

"Watch your mouth you little brat or you'll find yourself flying back to Neverland without the use of fairy dust or whatever silly thing it is!" he warned, pointing a finger at me.

"Pixie dust!" I snipped, while holding up my glowing golden pouch. The little ones continued to stare, the girls giggling amongst themselves.

"Oh how immature!" one of them, ironically a little nine year old, said. I crossed my arms, my irritation growing, and muttered to myself.

"No wonder you guys don't believe in Neverland. You have a bunch of eight year olds trying to look and act eighteen!" Just as I said that, she looked like she wanted to break into tears and I felt a pang of guilt. That guilt then turned to anger when I saw Ria slam her teacup on the table, rise up from her chair and grip her curly dark hair, as if she were ready to pull it out of her tan head.

"Alright that is it! I-have-had-it!" She let go of her hair and clasped her hands together. I watched her crying snowflake of a daughter ran over to her father, sobbing. She hid her face in his leg as he rubbed her back. Ria stomped over to the flimsy front door of the shack and opened it. "This is the door Isabella," she said quite loud, before pointing outside. "You may use it now!" The children sitting next to me immediately slid off of the bench to make way for me. The girls stared at me with anguish-filled glares and the boys with just evil smirks. They looked like a bunch of bratty little kittens watching their mother getting ready to kill a mouse. "Now out with you!" my supposed sister squawked again. "I shall have no pirates, no drifters, no witches, no long lost siblings or whatever the hell you think you are, in my house any longer!"

"If you're worried about witches in your house, then I should see you walking out right along with me." I mumbled. I had expected her to scream and then come over and try to beat the living heck out of me with whatever sliver of strength she had but I was wrong.

"Why you little!" her husband let out. Hector stomped over to me as if he were trying to crush the wood floor beneath him. He grabbed me by my pink v-neck and pinned me against the wooden wall like a freshly hunted doe. To avoid being choked by my own shirt I lifted up my leg and kicked him in the gut with the heel of my red boot, hard. He let go, but only for so long. I felt the back of my shirt being gripped and I soon felt myself leave the ground and before I knew it I was flying out the door and planted into the cold sand, face first. "And stay out!" Hector roared. I lifted up my head and shook the sand out of it like a wet dog. When my vision cleared I saw that Hector was about to slam the door shut but my father stopped him.

"Ah why don'chya use yo fists for sometin' useful fo once ya big brute!?" my old father let out as he poked at the big brawny man.

"But Omario—"

"Gah! I've heard enough 'a yo! Now if yo wanna live in my cottage after I kick da bucket you can shut up!" my father barked like an old pit bull. That seemed to knock Hector off his high horse as he quietly made his way to a chair in the corner and never spoke again. He scratched his nearly bald head and looked at me. "Now I do baliev' I ow yew a lil' explanation."

"Oh ya think?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"Yes, I do," he said. " 'owever it be awfully late. Almost midnight. The little ones need their rest and so do you," he turned to the children. "Alina," he said to his eldest grandchild. "You and Nia will double up tonight. Isabella will take your bed." That was received with much protest from both girls.

"But grandfather—."

"Ah ah," he silenced them, putting a hand up. "I don't wish to hear any complaints, understand? After all, this was Isabella's house before it was yours." I shuddered to think of what these little creatures had done to my old bedroom and my belongings—NOT that I cared or anything. After all, there was no way I was staying here. I could already feel an escape plan formulating in my head. All I had to do was wait.

Late at night, the room enveloped in a hushed stillness, I found myself lying in the cramped bed that my niece, Alina had given up and reluctantly agreed to share with her sister. The rhythmic sounds of the seven children breathing reassured me that, for now, everyone was sound asleep in their respective bunk beds-which somehow managed to fit in what used to be my bedroom. The dim moonlight seeping through the small circular window cast a gentle glow on the room, providing just enough visibility for my mission. My mind was set on one thing—escape. This bizarre family reunion had stretched my patience to its limits, and the allure of the open seas beckoned me. I couldn't remain confined in this domestic drama any longer. I had to get back to Jake, Cubby, Skully and Pirate Island. And luckily, the silence allowed me to slip away unnoticed.

Carefully, I slid out of the bed, attempting to disturb the sleeping nieces as little as possible. Their peaceful expressions betrayed no inkling of my intentions. Moving with the agility of the clever pirate I was, I tiptoed across the room, my eyes fixated on the small circular window—the gateway to my freedom-just like the large square window (that was now barred) had been fifty years ago. As I approached the window, my heart quickened. This was it. I was going home! With the stealth of a regular swashbuckler, I reached up to open the window, my pixie dust in hand, ready to aide me in case of emergency, as always. However, just as my fingers grazed the latch, a sudden rustling behind me sent shivers down my spine.

Panicking, I froze, thinking I was caught. My gaze fell upon the source of the disturbance. It was one of my nephews stirring in his sleep. For a fleeting moment, dread gripped me, fearing he might wake the others and spoil my escape to his parents. Yet, as his eyes fluttered open, a revelation struck me: this was the nephew, the little boy with the beautiful unique blue eyes. The little boy who hadn't laughed at my tales of Neverland. He looked at me with curiosity, his eyes reflecting a glimmer of understanding. Unlike his siblings who all had black or brown eyes, his irises were a bright blue that matched the color of the sky in Neverland. They were beautiful. They looked at everything around him with a pure curiosity. He had to be about…ten, eleven or so. Albeit he possessed a quiet charm, flawless tan skin, and dark chocolate hair with light brown highlights that mirrored my own. It looked soft and silky as it came in the form of a large swirl that covered a bit of his forehead. There was a familiarity in his gaze, as if he, too, harbored a sense of longing or adventure. Something told me that this boy was different from all his ratty siblings. And something told me that I should be as gentle as possible towards him.

"Have you really been to Neverland?" he whispered, a curious smile in his voice as if he did not realize I was trying to break out.

"Well yes ... .i….I live there you know." I replied softly. His smile grew even bigger.

"Oh is it really as swell as the books make it out to be? Are there pirates and mermaids and magical creatures like in the movies?" He looked like he was gonna start drooling.

"Well…I've never really heard of a mo-vie before but there are pirates and mermaids there. I happen to be a pirate and an honorary mermaid." I said, pointing to myself.

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed like a hyper little puppy.

"Shhhhhhhh!" I gently hushed him. "We don't wanna wake any of your brothers or sisters up…uhm….."

"Oh my name is Nikki," he demonstrated, pointing to himself. "I'm the second son, fourth child and also the middle child." I noticed a drop in his mood when he said the last sentence, however I had no time to worry about it.

"Well little Nikki," I said, inching closer to the open window. "It was great talking to you. Oh and thank you for believing me about neverland, but I really gotta get back. I've got battles to win, sunsets to watch, treasures to find. And—."

"Oh wait no please don't go!" he begged. Wow. That was the first time somebody here wasn't wanting to kick me out.

"Shhhhhhhhhh!" I gently hissed once more, although a little sterner.

"Oh…I'm sorry." he apologized, remembering to whisper.

"What's the matter?"

"Well…it's just that…we haven't had any visitors in so long! And I…..well I haven't any friends." he admitted, staring at his feet.

"You haven't?" He shook his head.

"No. They all call me crazy at school for thinking that places like Neverland actually exist. And my brothers and my sisters all just tell me to grow up because I'm almost twelve and still believe in simple fairy tales that never happened. I thought I was crazy too…until you showed up," I could tell where he was going with this…and I didn't like it. However I didn't know if I could add more rejection to those big blue eyes of his. His isolation and his loneliness and being teased was all too familiar to me. It began to remind me of my own horrid days as a school student before I ran off to Neverland with Peter. "Oh please stay! Please! Please. Please stay Izzy-oh I mean Isabella." As much as I wanted to run over and high him, I knew I had to go back home. But something was telling me it wouldn't be long until I returned.

"I'm sorry kiddo," I said and I think I felt his disappointment more than he did. "But I have to get back home tonight." I opened the circular hatch once more and got ready to climb out of it, however I hesitated, only to fully leap out the window and onto the sand.

To Be Continued...

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