Journey of a Lifetime

I had been to Neverland before, with my father and uncle on a quest from the king. I had befriended Peter Pan then left in the middle of the night without so much as a goodbye. Now I'm back, to help save Emma's son Henry. In and out, that was how simple it was supposed to be. I'm Lucy Jones, daughter of Killian Jones and the girl that simple doesn't apply to.

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6. Chapter 6

Present:

                “Pan seems to be happier now that you’re back,” Felix threw out yet another comment as I passed by. He knew as well as I did, though I would deny it to my grave, that I was a pawn to Peter. He would use me until he grew bored of me. Granted, that could take a while. I could give him something the lost boys couldn’t.

                Henry was asleep on the ground. Peter wanted to test him. He’d spent some time telling me about it, but not exactly what he wanted to do. Then he warned me to not interfere. Why should I care if he wanted to test the kid?

                I stayed to the side as Peter approached Henry. “Catch,” Peter said, tossing an apple to him. He had a crossbow in his hands.

                “I don’t like apples,” Henry said. Passive-aggressive. That’s an okay strategy, but Peter always gets what he wants.

                “Who doesn’t like apples?” Peter asked.

                “It’s a family thing,” Henry replied. Peter almost laughed at that. He lived for the subtle resistance. He enjoyed the fight for the sheer pleasure of watching you comply. Here’s the part where he tells Henry what he has to do.

                “Well don’t worry, they’re not for eating. It’s for a kind of game,” Peter crouched down. “A really fun game. I call it target practice.”

                Not this. What does he think this will accomplish? He made me do it once. He taught me how to shoot and then turned it into a game. Fun for all the boys. They all laughed at me.

                “What’s that?” Henry asked as Peter dipped the arrow head into the dreamshade. His game never changed.

                “Dreamshade. It’s a nasty poison,” Peter blew on the top. He went on to tell Henry the same story he told me. A man shot an apple off his son’s head with arrow. He wanted to know if it was possible. It was. I’d done it. Felix would be the target.

                “If you’re shooting at the apple, what’s the poison for?” Poor Henry. I should stop this.

                “Motivation not to miss,” Peter replied. He loaded the arrow. “Felix, get over ‘er.”

                “Is his aim good?” Henry was starting to panic. I followed Felix over. I need to stop this. Something isn’t right.

                “Doesn’t matter. You’re the one doing the shooting,” Peter said and handed him the bow.

                “But I don’t want to shoot,” Henry protested. Doesn’t matter. Peter wants you to. Felix caught the apple and backed against the tree. He still chewed his straw with the apple balanced on his head. The rest of the boys started to chant.

                “Peter.” I’d finally found my voice. “Stop this.”

                “Trust yourself. Go on. It’s exhilarating.” Peter ignored me. Try again.

                “Peter,” I said with more force this time. With a flick of his hand, my voice was gone. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close.

                “Just ask Lucy. Tell him what a thrill it is.” Peter kept his tight grip on me. Henry had his eyes on Felix, and I kept my gaze on the ground until Peter whispered harshly into my ear, “Watch.”

                Henry lifted the crossbow. He was shaking slightly, but less than I was when I shot at Felix. He look prepared… prepared to do whatever it took.

                Peter silenced the boys when he raised his free arm as a signal. Like soldiers obeying, they fell silent. Everything was quiet for a moment.

                The arrow went straight at Peter. He smiled when he caught it, and inch away from hitting his chest. I, on the other hand, could feel my heart pounding. And Henry looked surprised. He doesn’t realize how powerful Peter really is.

                “I told you it was exhilarating,” Peter said and tossed the arrow away. He released me. “Come on, I have something to show you.”

                Peter left with Henry. I didn’t have to be anywhere near them to know what was being said. Peter would lie. He would give false hope. He would make Henry feel special. I watched them, waiting. Peter would get around to me. He wouldn’t let my outburst go overlooked.

                “I don’t believe you,” Henry called after Peter as he approached me. Peter looked back at Henry and laughed as he took my hand.

                “You remind me of your father,” Peter said. He hated Baelfire. That much I knew. With that, Peter led me away, all the way up to his treehouse room.

                The door closed and all facades went away. Peter released my voice but used his magic to pin me to the wall. I’d really angered him. More so than I imagined.

                “Don’t you ever question me. Not in front of the lost boys. Not in front of Henry.” Peter was livid. He slammed a fist against the wall beside my head. It was best to allow him to let it out.

                He kissed me, biting my lower lip quite hard before he pulled away, letting me down. I rubbed my shoulder. He’d made me hit the wall rather hard.

                “I won’t apologize,” I said. That’s what he wanted. He wanted compliance. He wanted me to be a perfect little soldier like his lost boys. Peter watched me and then he smirked.

                “You were worried about me. You knew he’d shoot at me.” I felt my cheeks grow hot. He chuckled and closed the distance between us. He placed his hands on the sides of my head, just low enough so that he could tilt my chin up. This time, his kiss was soft, just like they were when we met. The ones that made my heart skip a beat, and made me feel worth something to him.

                Peter held my face close to his and looked into my eyes. “I knew you still loved me,” He said.

                And then he left me standing there. He realized that he’d won my heart… something that I’d entrusted to him long ago. I hate that I love him. I hate the way he makes me feel. I hate the fact that he was right. I never stopped loving him. I always came right back, to the kisses, to the warmth, and to the abuse. I loved Peter. And I’d given him that control over me.

               

 

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