VOLATILE (I) : peter pan ouat

When a Turquoise Flower Happened

2

It's morning again, and this time, I am so very ready for the day. There's no way I'm not getting off this island in two days. I'll finally be safe.

No one else is in my tent, so I doubt Johnny even came back last night.

I head out, quickly grabbing some food off the table. I sit down and eat it, looking around. The clearing is empty. It's so very odd to see an empty camp. Not only does it feel wrong, but it feels creepy. Even at night, you can hear the soft whispers of boys in their tents, pretending to sleep.

Neverland is not a place that's meant to be empty. It's supposed to be buzzling with activity, excitement, and freedom. I can hear the soft rustling of the leaves, as the wind kisses them, and the sweet chirps of a bird far away.

Neverland isn't supposed to be beautiful; it's supposed to be alive.

If it's empty here, I might as well rinse off in the clothing tent. Once all my clothes are off, I scrub and scrub and scrub away at my skin with the soap and water, until I finally feel clean. Smelling slightly of detergent is better than smelling of dirt.

When I enter the med tent only Thomas and Max remain inside. It seems as though they are the only ones left sick. Even Keaton's bed is empty, but perhaps he died during the night. I doubt the others would've forced the cure inside his body. Maybe he took it, but Alex killed him during the night.

That's always a possibility.

"Where is everyone?" I ask.

Max doesn't look up at me, but continues to stare up at the ceiling. "They left."

Thomas doesn't answer either, but that's due to the fact that he still sleeps. They may have been able to pour liquid down his throat, but they couldn't wake him. At least, not yet.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

Max turns and his sad eyes meet mine. "I couldn't get up and go with them."

"Go where?" I demand.

"The funeral." He answers.

Shit. That's today. Was I expected to attend? I hardly knew anyone who's being buried today, and the only one I did know I had a direct role in his death. That is, if Sam and Eric's bodies are going to be there?

Is Eric even dead? I'd imagine so. I don't think it's my fault, but the nagging voice is the back of my head tells me otherwise. Even if I didn't curse him, I didn't take him back to the camp for medical treatment. That isn't today I feel guilty or sorry. He had it coming, and so did Sam.

"Do you want to go?" I ask.

For a second I forgot how upset Max looks.

"I can't." He tells me. "Still can't move my legs."

He must be feeling awful. I can't imagine what it must be like to stripped of the ability to move. Being born paralysed would be hindering, but not awful. However, in a place like Neverland, the ability to move is everything.

"The medicine might help." I offer.

He turns away, not daring to look at me. "Yeah, the good it's done Thomas. He still hasn't woken up."

"Maybe it'll take a bit to set in," I attempt to reassure him. "I could bring you to the funeral for now."

"How?" He demands. "You got a wheelchair?"

"I've got a wheelbarrow." I offer.

He scoffs. "Yeah. Put me where you put the dirt. We're basically the same anyway."