VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When a Failure Happened

"Pan," my breath is but a whisper. "Pan."

I doubt he can hear me, or is even aware I'm calling to him.

The one time he isn't breathing down my neck, watching me, is the one time I need him the most.

My brain isn't one for coming up with plans. I've gotten very good at rushing into action, but not at planning a move. The cave is guarded by a hidden door, held up by rope. I can't get the jump on them.

Unless I hold Sam hostage.

I turn around, looking for the boy to grab, watching as he re-enters their hideout.

Great, there goes my only chance at an advantage.

Maybe I could lure them out of the cave.

I hit my fist off the wall, attempting to make a sound they will hear. Instead, my hand throbs as the bones collide against the hard rock. I cradle my hand, attempting to let go before holding it again. The pain is sharp, and makes my eyes water.

As if the situation couldn't get worse. Now I'm supposed to fight and free my kidnapped friends with an injured hand. I hope nothing's broken. Thankfully I hit the rock with my left hand and not my right. If I had, then I'd really be in trouble.

I almost scream for Pan, parting my lips until I decide that is not a good idea. If they know someone is out here, then I won't be able to surprise them. Angry, I sit down on the ground.

I can't do this on my own, there's no way. Not only am I not strong enough, but not fast enough and not smart enough to take on a group of boys. Maybe I should respect Alex more; he'd know what to do in this situation.

I need to get Pan's attention. He definitely knows where I am, how could he not? He just needs to have a reason to come to me.

Maybe if I scream then he'll come. I give up on the stealthy approach. The harsh sound escapes my lips in a screech as I try to make it sound as pained as possible.

That won't work though, he somehow knows when we are injured or not. As if he can feel our pain.

Sam and Fred both leave the cave, and I duck behind once again, letting them look around in shock. I manage to scramble on top of the rock, lying my body flat against the sharp roof and draping my cloak overtop of me. I grabbed a green one today, so hopefully the colour will help me to blend into the plants. If not, I'm so screwed.

I roll onto my back, pulling my dagger out from my belt. In order to get Pan here, I need to be in pain.

Quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. That's what I tell myself, as my shaking fingers can't manage to move the dagger from where it's pressed against my left hand. I already hurt myself there, so the pain of the knife can't be much worse than the pain of the broken bones.

This can't be happening. My friends are kidnapped because I was foolish and lazy, and now I'm alone in the forest with no choice to save them except to injure myself. I have to hurt myself to save my friends.

I slash, biting my lip as my breathing gets heavier. It burns, and the blood pools out of the cut. I wrap my hand in the cloak, trying to hold the blood in. The cloak scratches against the cut hurting more, and I bite my lip to keep myself from crying out. Don't make a sound, or they'll find you.

"Pan," I whisper again.

He still won't come.

I quickly cut my hand again, and the blood drips on to the grey rocks below. Maybe it needs to be intense pain.

At least, that's why I wasn't giving myself papercuts. I was cutting quite deep, enough to coat my hand in a layer of blood.

Peeking over, I notice the two boys below me. I grunt before throwing my body down next to them, not giving myself the time to decide if this is the right decision. They look a little shocked to say the least, and I raise my red dagger at them with my non-bloody hand.