Growing Young

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I watched as the people around me rushed to take shelter from a seemingly harmless beast. The snowflakes fell from a blank sky which was almost too bright to look at. I took my time walking home. I enjoyed the cold sting of winter, and my jeep wasn't suited for this weather. I had accumulated a fair share of confused and nasty looks, but I didn't mind. I was used to it.

Just before a young, nimble looking girl entered Second Avenue Coffee Shop, she stole a quick glance my way. The first thing I noticed was the lack of warm clothing she wore. A simple, pleated skirt showed her all too knobby knees, and a purple sweatshirt did it's best to keep her warm. The next thing I noticed, despite her blushed cheeks, was her eyes. They were filled with what could only be described as sympathy, and it didn't take long to realize her sympathy was focused on me.

I did my best to smile at the girl. I pinched the sleeve of my jacket, reassuring her that I was warm. She didn't seem to look at my jacket, just continued to look into my eyes.

"Annabeth, it is not polite to stare. Not everyone is lucky enough to be raised with common sense." A tall, thin woman who seemed to be the girl's mother pulled her inside, slamming the door behind her. I smirked. "Not everyone is lucky enough to be blessed with civil parents," and took a quick glance at the window next to me.

If she wasn't sympathetic about my warmth, maybe something was off about me today. I speculated myself for just a second before deciding nothing was out of the ordinary.

I wore my white fleece coat over a hoodie I had received from camp last summer, and a blue blouse which you could not see. I had on black waterproof pants, and my warm fur boots. My long brown hair hung in limp curls down my shoulders, and my green eyes stuck out against my pale skin. Nothing different.

I couldn't get the small girl's eyes out of my head. I could handle the woman's remark, most adults had foolish insights about life anyways. I always felt like children could not only see more, but feel more. I felt the worry of her eyes slip away from my mind as I suddenly remembered the thoughts I'd been having a long time.

For the past few months, the realization of growing up had really started to kick in. Not only had I received my cap and gown for graduation, but the constant tension between me and my parents was at it's highest.

"Emma, you have to grow up sometime. You have four months until graduation, and you still haven't even decided what college you are going to attend, let alone what you want to major in. When I was your age.." And that's usually when I started to block my father out. My mother was a bit more approachable, but not by much. She would add comments here and there, mostly after dinner when I would help clean the table. "Emma, I know growing up is difficult, but you'll make such a fine young lady! You have drive, and lets face it. College boys will be head over heels for you!" It was always something along those lines.

It wasn't that I was lazy, or even that I didn't want to attend college. It went much deeper than that, but it was never something I wanted to openly admit to my parents. I always tried to potray myself as fearless. I could hike through the mountains of Brevard with only a bottle of water and compass to guide me. Standing in front of large crowds never phased me, even when I stood alongside Casey Albans when she had lost her voice to deliver a speech to our entire school about how she had finally convinced the school board to remove all the soda machines.

There was one thing I was afraid of, and no matter how deep I tried to bury it, it was always there. I feared growing up. I feared a day when you woke up in your office cubicle, staring at a clock that still has three more hours of work waiting for you, regretting the past mistakes you made while you were young, and dreading each coming second of aging. To me, growing up was an awful thing.

When I finally reached my house, my parents were asleep. I had always managed to extend my what-should-be-no-more-than-an-hour visit and walk from my favorite bookstore, Walby's Reads, to an all day thing. I knew it annoyed my parents, but I tried to push that aside.

I walked upstairs to my room, pulling apart my snow covered layers piece by piece. When I laid down in bed, sporting nothing other than my pinstriped pajama bottoms and Nike t-shirt, I noticed my room seemed colder than usual. I got up to turn up the heat, and that's when I realized something unusual. Apart from the breeze I felt chilling my bare arms, my window was open. I knew I hadn't opened it, I rarely did unless the weather was nice. My mother and father almost never came into my room, they atleast knew their boundaries there. I walked to the window and took a quick scan of the scene outside of my house. The snow had slowed down enough that only small flurries were chasing the wind. My jeep was parked in front of my house, since there had never been enough room inside the garage. I didn't notice anything different.

I shut the window and began walking to the thermostat, but as I reached the door of my room I was interrupted by the sound of my window opening. I took my hand off the doorknob, and as I started to turn to the window, I saw something that surprised me so vastly I was almost knocked off my own two feet.

A shadow. Not just any shadow, but the shadow of a boy. A feather stuck out from a pointed hat the boy must have been wearing, and that's when it immediately registered in my mind who the shadow was. But it can't be..

"Hey, Em. I'm Peter. Peter Pan. How would you like to never grow up?" And that's when I could swear my heart stopped for the faintest second, and all my breath escaped me.