A/N - This chapter is up late because of the fact my hands won't stop shaking so it's really hard to type, sorry. 😅
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The inside of my tent had turned out to be remarkably similar to the room I had woken up in earlier that day. In fact, they must have been built under the same design.
It held the same cosy bed and wardrobe, with the same unvarnished walls, probably the standard accommodations for the residents of the camp.
Upon entering, the first thing I had done was burst dramatically and unnecessarily into tears. Ugly tears. The sort that make you curl up and rock in a corner. Not fun.
I don't know why. The stress and emotional taxation must have been too much, but until that point, I hadn't felt the need in to cry or even allow just a few tears escape. But the ragged, ferocious sobs that ripped through my chest and choked up my throat weren't something I could ignore now. The moment I had shut the door behind me, concealing myself from the Lost Ones, a great wall of emotion has hit me square in the face. So much for just Felix and Peter's emotions being temperamental.
Once I had finished with my not-quite-so-little weeping jag, I noticed the sun outside my window had flushed the sky a deep cerise, signalling the closing of another day.
Already? How long had I been passed out earlier? I must have missed at least half the day. But why? I was convinced that Peter had knocked me out, what other explanation was there? And it had been done so effortlessly, almost without thought. He had waved his hand gently before my eyes, and moments later, I was a collapsed heap, curled up in Felix's arms. But if Peter and the boys had been so dead-set on capturing and imprisoning me, why was I suddenly allowed the same privileges as everyone else? And if I had been unconscious for hours, that left plenty of opportunity to cause me harm when I was at my most vulnerable. If they'd stuck me in a cage without reason, surely that meant they bore me no good will. So why was I still unscathed?
These questions flew about my brain like a storm of angry birds, twittering and squawking in the most nuisance manner possible, so I couldn't help but ponder them over and over again. Still nothing made sense.
Defeated, I resolved that finding answers to those questions would be a right-sight harder if I was dead on my feet from exhaustion. The sun and had set, meaning it was time for bed. I could at least keep my sleep schedule intact even if everything else was falling apart.
I settled in, snuggling down deep into the blankets, confident with the knowledge that the boys had not harmed me whilst I slept before, and they probably wouldn't now. I didn't trust any of them, not in the slightest, but concluded I could probably make it through the night without finding myself in a face-off with them. A face I would unequivocally lose. I fell deeply asleep almost immediately, which was odd, considering the amount of things on my mind.
Whilst I slept, I dreamed.
I was back in the forest, like the previous day, only this time, I knew where I was going, I wasn't stinking around blind in the middle of the night.
I was rushing towards one set goal, racing the clock to reach it. My real self had no idea what that target was, I only knew that if I didn't reach it in time, the consequences would be disastrous.
I also knew that I was being followed by something twice as quick as me and infinitely more dangerous. This thing was after me and wasn't slowing down. It raced through the forest, just out of reach behind me, giving chase like a lion to an antelope. Not an ideal situation, really.
Branches swung about, scratching my arms and grazing my legs as a darted past, leaving little cuts all over me, but I didn't care. My mind could only focus on finding my destination, like it was the only thing I had to live for.
I was sprinting the fastest I would possibly travel, my legs aching and my breath coming out in short, sharp puffs, and yet still, I knew I was not going to make it. Wherever it was that I was so desperately headed, I would not get there in time. Whatever was pursuing me would soon be satisfied.
No matter what I did, or how quickly I got there, it would be too late.
Despite this knowledge, I did not slow. I pumped my legs harder and harder, so hurriedly that I thought they must look a blur to any onlookers. My predator did the same.
I could sense they were right behind me, close enough to reach out and touch, yet still I ran on. This continued for a fraction of a second longer, before it finally caught up.
I tripped.
My momentum contributing a great deal to the solid face plant I took, directly into the ground. I was glad I was in a dream, or my nose would have most definitely been shattered.
The thing had was now stood over me, not moving an inch, but had it have wanted to, it could have killed me on the spot. I was defenceless and defeated. Nevertheless, I lifted my head and shoved my body to the side, preparing for one final battle, however futile it might be.
It was there again, just the same as my real life experience.
The thing with the glowing white eyes.
And then I woke up.
I shot up out of bed, my breathing coming fast and my brow drenched with sweat.
It was just a dream, I told myself in my head. Just a dream, nothing more. And yet I was uncertain. It had felt just too real, too clear to be the product of my subconscious imagination. I felt that it had some other meaning, other significance, that I wasn't yet aware of.
It was dreadful. The adrenaline still pumped through my veins and my breathing still hadn't returned to normal, even though I had been awake minutes.
The insides of my cosy, nonthreatening tent suddenly seemed to be closing in on me, suffocating me. Intense claustrophobia plagued my thoughts. I had to get out.
It was still mostly dark outside, but I didn't care. As an excuse to myself, I decided that the most logical thing to do was to plan my departure route, so that if they chance ever arose, I would know which way to escape.
I didn't see much of Peter's camp because I quickly discovered that just next to my shack, hidden amongst the thorny brambles, a narrow, overgrown path led off into the forest. I smirked. Not a very smart move on his part to give me the tent with a practically en-suite exit.
I followed the path a little way into the trees, not fearful of losing my way or coming across anything unwanted on my journey because the dawn light had illuminated everything, guiding me along. And when you can see where you're going, everything is much less frightening than in the dark.
The trail appeared only the skirt the edges, just inside the forest borders and so, after only about twenty minutes of walking, I was spat out on a rather small, pleasant-looking beach.
I couldn't tell if it was the same beach that I had first woken up on, though I thought not; that beach had been much larger. This one was barely the size of a tennis court, bordered on all sides by either sea, forest or sloped grey inclines of rock. The picture of relaxation. Altogether a good place to calm my dream-provoked nerves.
I sat down in the bleached sand, settling in to watch the impending sunrise. It was bound to be spectacular in such a place as this.
The horizon had just begun to glow a light-ish purple when something unpredicted happened. A head popped up between the waves.
It a woman, her hair drenched and wearing nothing but a heavily decorated bikini top. What an odd sight.
She was quite a distance out, probably too deep to stand, judging by the way she bobbed up and down slightly in time with the waves.
She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
She began to move closer, almost imperceptibly gliding through the water like a delicate lily on a pond. Her chest and torso became more easily visible and the decoration of her attire was fully exposed.
I continued to scrutinise the scene, bewitched by the elegance and refinement of the mysterious person before me. I watched as she floated closer and closer, transfixed, unable to look away if I had wanted to. Not only was she strikingly beautiful but she also was adorned in the most exquisite jewellery. Her tawny locks were beaded with precious stones of all kinds and colours. The content of hair alone most have been worth thousands, not to mention the humungous ruby which hung around her neck and nestled in the hollow of her throat, sitting like a giant droplet of blood at the base of her neck.
Her face had a fascinating almost other-worldly quality. Like the sort of face you would only expect to find on the airbrushed pages over a fashion magazine, or painted as the face of an angel by an old master of artwork. I couldn't stop staring at it.
Still, she came nearer.
And nearer.
And nearer.
And then my feet were wet.
I looked down, breaking my reverie for the first time since initially spotting the strange girl. The toes of my shoes were inches deep in the lapping waves, and I was stood up. I had been the one to move; she had stayed in the same place the whole time.
But that didn't make any sense. I'd been sat watching the daybreak, a good ten metres back from the waterline.
Something was going on. And I didn't like it. My head was too full of strange, inexplicable occurrences that didn't make any logical sense no matter how many times I thought them over. First, the door of the cage opening without being touched, then a spectre with white eyes appear and delivers to me some kind of riddle, Peter waves his hand and I pass out, and now I was being transported magically from one place to several feet away without so much as an inkling as to how. Hold on. Maybe that was what it really, actually was. Magic. It sounded absolutely absurd, but I could not think of a single other explanation.
A vile hiss interrupted my speculation, though, before I could peer too far into the prospect of magic, and I glanced up to see the woman in the waves emitting the most awful of noises. The tendons in her neck were taught with the effort she put into her shrieking, her face no longer beautiful and serene, but contorted into a mask of anger and evil.
Distraught and shocked, I stumbled back from the water, almost falling over in my horror, whilst she simultaneously threw back her body and dove violently down to the depths of the water. God, Neverland was full of some strange things. And the beach didn't seem so relaxing anymore.
As it seemed that nowhere I went on the island would be terror-free, I decided it was time to return to the camp. The sun had burst above the horizon, beginning the day, anyway. I didn't know what time the Lost Ones usually awoke (or if they even woke up in the morning at all - they were teenage boys, after all) but I didn't want to risk it. I didn't think they would take too kindly to my disappearance and the last thing I wanted was to be thrown back into The Cages, or worse.
I retraced my steps, following the direction of the path back to the opening in the bush that lead to the camp, walking slightly quicker than necessary, still disturbed by my unnerving encounter.
When I broke through the tree line, finally reentering the camp boundaries, I glanced around, ascertaining that no one was there to catch me. Just as I'd hoped, the place was as empty as when I'd left, thank God. I snuck, as quietly as possible, back around to the door of my tent. Feeling certain that I was alone and safe, I began to open the door.
"How the HELL did you just do that?!"
Petrified, not expecting the sudden shout, I dropped the door, which closed with a dull thud against its fragile frame, and reeled around to face my questioner.
Peter Pan stood their, clearly agitated, his hands raised out in front of him, gesturing in the general direction of where I had just come from.
"Oh, it's you. What do you want?" I snapped, not appreciating the fact that he had made me look weak by sneaking up on me.
His face was a mix between shock, confusion and downright disbelief. Like what he had just witnessed was entirely impossible. He stared at me, waiting breathlessly for an answer, as though I hadn't spoken at all. Unsure what he was referring to or how to respond, I just glared back.
His nostrils flared and he seemed barely able to control himself.
"How? How did you do that? No one has EVER escaped a mermaid before. NEVER!"
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A/N - I should probably stop putting author's notes at the start and end of every single chapter but oh well. So what did you think? Did you get that the 'women in the waves' was a mermaid just from the title of the chapter or am I going insane and just making up a bunch of random shit that only I understand? Ahahhahaha, don't worry, I know it's the latter. Also, there was a Ben and Holly reference in this chapter. So for you die-hard fans like me, see if you can spot it. Okay. Bye.