Chapter 1
If only for a few seconds, I think I'm dead. A high pitched buzz rings out, and the dark is all encompassing. Reaching my hands forward, I realise I can see them. It's not dark; the world has just gone black.
When I look down at myself, I realise I'm in different clothing. A red shirt and jeans, and my hair is in a braid that falls over my shoulder. The added weight on my head feels odd, almost odder than the space makes me feel.
I raise a foot, stepping forward. The ground ripples around my feet, and the step echoes through the space. If it were possible to walk on water, that is what I'd guess I'm doing right now.
I rake a finger through my hair, the weight on my head surprisingly reassuring. Losing my hair, in an odd way, felt like losing my humanity. I didn't get to keep many things when I came to Neverland, and it was another thing I sacrificed to survive.
There's nowhere to run now. The space is endless, but I run forward all the same, searching for something. The ground continues to swim beneath me, and I spin looking for anything.
"Pan!" I scream.
When nothing happens, I spin back around.
I feel a hand on my shoulder, so I turn to face it.
There is a woman behind me. A woman in a flowing white dress, that passes around her as if there is no gravity around us.
Her blonde hair falls over her shoulder, straight and fine. A few strands here and there lift up, flowing about in the air. Peach lips pursing into a smile, as she rests her hand on my cheek. Her skin is soft, and smells like apples. She has to reach up to find my face; it has been so long.
That's when I realise I am dead.
"Mom?" I ask.
Her smile turns sour, as her glistening brown eyes crinkle at the sides. She takes my hand in hers. I watch as her fingers wrap tightly around mine, but it feels like a loose grip. As if my hand could pass through hers without any trouble.
Like we aren't really together.
I wait for words to come out of her mouth, all of mine gone. It's been years, and there were so many things I wanted her to know. Nothing can make up for the time we've lost.
Her rosy cheeks begin to turn pale, as a tear runs down her cheek.
Everything goes black again.
I'm wide awake. As my eyes open, and I recognise the dark green tarp above me, the unfortunate news that my mother was a dream hits me.
I sit up sharply, my hands digging into the soft soil on the ground. Her hands felt real in mine. The sweet smell of cinnamon and happiness lingers around me, as if she is still here. I've often felt her ghost weighing me down, but not literally.
My hands find their way up to rake my fingers through my hair, when I notice something in my hand. Gold metal shines in my face, it's a pocket watch. On the back are the initials L. J. in fancy cursive lettering.
I move to place it in the pocket of my cloak, only to realise I have no cloak. It's gone. I'm only in my tank top and pants. Disposing of the watch in my pocket, I rake my hands though my hair.
It's long. As long as it was before I cut it. It falls down around me, the straight dark brown covering my bare shoulders. The entire situation leaves me feeling rather feminine, which is quite uncomfortable.
There's a roar of laughter outside, and I'm brought back to my surroundings.
I'm in a tent, completely exposed as a girl.
As the memories of the final night of the bet come flooding back to me, I wonder how long I've been unconscious. Long enough for my hair to grow long again, apparently.
Was I in a coma?
I peek out of the tent, only to see the area filled with boys. I can't exit through here. Not unless the jig is up and I'm ready for everyone to know I'm a girl. My dagger is gone, so when I move to the other side I'm unable to cut my way out of the tent.
Maybe I could use magic.
I sit down, crossing my legs and staring at the tarp. The fabric flaps in the wind, and I begin to concentrate on my breathing. Rip, tear, do something.
I roll my eyes, before taking the tarp in my hands and ripping at the material until it gives way. Once the tear is started, it's much easier to split the fabric.
As I step out of that end, I see boys still bustling around me.
We must have moved locations after the fire. For some reason, my tent is in the center of the clearing. There's no way to escape without getting caught.
I peer around, looking for anything to throw over my head to cover the hair. My hair tie is gone from my wrist, and I don't have a knife to cut it with.
When I spot the basket in the corner, I lift it up. Inside are a variety of bars of soap, white, pink and purple, as well as a silver mirror. Alongside that are about a dozen ribbons, ranging in a variety of colour and size.
Thanks Pan. This isn't condescending at all.
Begrudgingly, I pick up a green one, quickly tying my hair out of my face.
I then pick up the mirror, looking into it. I stare back, and as I look at my face, the more unfamiliar it seems. My skin is clear, the scars along my face from Samuel and Sam gone. Freckles dance along my cheeks. I look soft, and clean.
As I pull the mirror closer, I notice the faint white line where the cuts used to be. What a shame they are gone, I actually liked the way they looked. They gave good character.
The mirror falls to the ground, cushioned by the sift dirt.
I storm out of the tent, angrily. This is not what I signed up for.
Boys leap out of my way as I move past them, staring at me in shock. I don't bother paying them any mind. Gregory casts his eyes towards me. I wonder if they even recognise me.
I spot Pan talking to Felix and he smiles towards me.
"I see you're awake. Took you long enough."
I grab him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him down to my height.
"What did you do?" I demand.
"I thought you'd like the make-over." He's so patronising. "Or what, you'd prefer to have ugly hair?"
He did the hair too? "That little basket of yours? Super patronising."
He grins. "I thought it might be."
I shove him back, letting go. I look over at Felix, who gives me an evil grin. I cast him a dirty glare, before sneering at him.
"What's going on?" I turn around and see Harry standing behind me.
He looks at me in shock, turning his eyes all over my face than done my body.
He steps towards me, before cocking his head to the side. "Charlie?"
I can't possibly look that different from when I had my hat and cloak. Honestly.
"Haven't you got anything better to do than stare at me?" I demand, spinning around.
The boys crowding around us back up carefully, but still stare in shock. Faces long, mouths open, hands up in defense. As if I'm a dangerous animal, and maybe I am.
I roll my eyes, turning back to Pan. He's gone, yet Felix still remains.
Shoving aside boys, knocking them to the ground, I leave the circle. It's been a long day, and yesterday (I assume it's yesterday) was a long day. I'm so very exhausted of dealing with idiots.
Which is why I walk into the forest not even sparing a glance back at the boys.
I'm not quite sure where I'm heading, but I walk, kicking up dark grey stones out of the dirt. Maybe I could teleport myself somewhere. I lean against a tree, thinking about where I want to go?
Where do I want to go?
I sigh, moving forward again. Not quite sure where I'm going, both on the island and in the future.
What do I do now that the bet is over? Home isn't an option for me, and now I have magic. I'm not quite sure what to do with it, or even how it works. Pan might be able to help me figure out how it works, but that would involve being back at the camp.
I miss my sister.
When I walk for hours without recognising a single thing, I realise the camp must be in a completely different spot now. I wonder where the ruins are of our old home.
As the sun begins to set, I reach the shore. I was walking in the wrong direction; no wonder I found nothing as I moved through the forest. This part of the beach is one I don't think I've been to, but I can see the cliff and waterfall off in the distance.
We've switched to the other side of the cliff. Now, the old camp must be on the other side of the island. It should only take a few hours to get there walking, maybe five, maybe six.
Getting to the cave would be another story. That would be half a day's trip. I've always been quite good with directions, which has proven useful here. It's funny how all the things I thought I need to learn in school actually are the things that I wish I had never bothered spending time on.
If I spent more time in gym and less time on math my life would be so much easier.
It's beginning to get dark, and I don't think I'm going back to camp tonight. I don't mind all that much, in fact it feels so peaceful out here.
I wish I had more time to explore Neverland. Maybe that's my new goal, to understand the island like the back of my hand. Besides, it's not like there's anything I really have to do anymore.
Sitting down, I look up between the trees at the night sky. I remember how beautiful it looked on the night of the bet. The field was full of fireflies, like stars that had come down at Earth just to dance between us.
Pan could've killed me, but he didn't. He could've punished me or really anything, but instead he chose to show me the stars. Even if he ended up attacking me, he showed me a whole new world.
A world with magic.
I pull myself up, sitting. Pulling out a strand of grass from the ground, I spin it in my fingers. It looks like the blade of a helicopter.
Letting a grin spread across my face, I let it go, watching as it spins off into the sky. I stand, raising my fingers, which trace just after the blade of grass. My hands stops still, and it continues to spin floating in the air.
I'm doing it, I'm doing magic.
Carefully holding my hand up, I pick up another piece of grass, before letting it fly away. It joins the air on my left side, as I look back and forth between the blades of grass. They continue to spin around in the air.
I'm making things fly, without even touching them.
It doesn't feel like anything. You'd expect for the heat of the power to course through my body. Tingling feet, pounding heart, calm and concentrated. That isn't what magic feels like. It feels like riding a bike for the first time.
Taking all your concentration up, difficult but wondrous. The urge to shout to your mother that you're actually doing it. Surprise at your own abilities.
I wish she was here to share it with.
When I hear footsteps behind me, I drop my hands.
"You aren't very good at hiding." Alex's voice rings out.
I scoff, turning to face him. The blades of grass drift down to the ground. "Were you following me?"
"You left a trail of destroyed branches behind you." He tells me. "Next time, try not to smash your way through the trees."
I cross my arms. "How long did you know?"
I don't have to specify what I'm talking about. My femininity may very well be the elephant in the room, but I'm not going to let it be.
He shrugs. "Still like to ask all the questions?"
"Listen," I tell him, "I think I have a right to know. People have died for that secret."
"Metaphorically doesn't count." He argues. "The only person's that died is Johnny, and he's still walking and talking."
Johnny's body maybe, but him not so much. He's killed people, and attempted to kill people, all in the name of keeping us safe. Who knows what he's done and just hasn't told me about?
"You know what it's like to see someone who isn't them anymore?" I question.
He doesn't answer, just scowls.
"Right." I remark. "Your past is off limits. Must reach level ten friendship before unlocking, right? How could I forget?"
"Just come back to the camp already." He jumps in. "Harry's worried sick. You think it's fair to make him lose James, Thomas and you all at once?"
I guess not, but that really isn't any of my concern.
It's dark out, and I still can barely see Alex.
"Can we head back in the morning?" I ask.
He rolls his eyes. "No."
I sigh. There's no way of getting around this is there? When Alex sets his mind to something, it tends to happen. No use arguing with him.
"Glad you're at least being civil about the whole thing." I push past him. "About me being a girl and all, or is that why you've always treated you poorly?"
"You can give the donkey the stick or the carrot." He tells me. "You're the stick type."
Yeah whatever. He's always trying to teach me some sort of lesson. Doesn't mean it's any less rude and ridiculous. This is bullshit.
"That doesn't answer my question," I say.
He lifts a branch up and ducks underneath it. "You know how I feel about questions."
"I also know how you feel about hard truths." I cock an eyebrow.
He grabs me by the shoulders and slams me into a tree. I groan as he slams a hand over my mouth. Knees bending, he guides me to the ground, before getting up and stepping away.
I move to say something, but I feel hands clamped over my mouth. My screams are muffled as I watch Alex's shadow moving deeper in the trees.
I rip the hands off from behind me as I spin around, looking for my attacker. There's no one there.
Like the time of the Hunt, when I was hiding in the trees. An invisible source requesting my silence.
The forest is quiet, and grey. Fog rolls in, making it even harder to see Alex. His figure becomes more defined as a black outline as he makes his way to the top of the hill. A silhouette surrounded by the white light of the stars against the fog.
It's quiet, all I can hear is the snapping of branches beneath Alex's feet and the distance sounds of crickets. The cool chill of wind finds its way to my skin, and I begin to see my own breath in the air.
This isn't like Pan's nightmare though. That was a sharp cold, a piercing one. This cold is that of the night.
When I spot another dark figure, moving out from behind a tree towards Alex, I can feel my heart thump. His back is turned to the figure that he can't see.
I nearly shout to him, but I once again feel the hands against my mouth.
This time I don't bother struggling.
Another figure emerges, distracting Alex as the one from behind puts a bag over his head. They're going to smother him to death.
I fight against the hands, only to find them stronger. The other hands felt there, but only when I didn't think about them. Illusions or clouds, I was blinded by the panic not to see them for what they were.
The invisible hands are magic. Whether mine or someone else's, they are magic there to protect me.
These hands are strong and callused. I can feel the nails digging into my skin as I try to escape.
I scream, the loud sound cutting through the hands.
We're being kidnapped.
I don't have time to reach for the dagger.
When I feel the bag over my head, I only struggle further. Logically, I know not to move. Conserve my oxygen or whatever, fake unconsciousness until it's my time to strike.
The world in my head isn't this one. I don't waste time pretending to pass out. I shove and kick and claw and scream. My lungs are sucked out of my body, and it's strangulation without all the pain around my neck. Suffocation is supposed to be the worst way to die. Am I going to die?
My head feels light, and I begin to dance with consciousness. My feet give way, and the soft sack acts as a pillow as I pass out.
Pillow isn't the right word. Coffin is.
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Welcome to season 2? Who's excited? And what exactly do you think just happened? As I reread this chapter, I got shocked when Alex shoved Charlie, simply because it seemed to come out of nowhere. Haha.
Anyway, let me know what you think in the comments. What are you looking forward to in season 2?
For now, rest easy, and I'll see you Monday.