Chapter 8: Waking from a nightmare to a nightmare

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Hey,
Thanks for reading.
Sorry but this chapter is a little rubbish- I promise in a couple of days I'll update again.
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Enjoy,
Annabelle_the_reader
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'Help!' I screamed, shooting up from my bed and embraced the gust of wind from my partially open window. I had awoken with a startle, the heat made my head pound and my vision dizzy. My heart was racing beyond its usual speed, the sound almost unbearable. My cheeks were hot and flustered, damp with fresh tears that were still uncontrollably spilling from my eyes in floods as if it would wash away the memory.

Darkness surrounded me, no matter where I look. A small ribbon of moonlight dropped through the thin, pale curtains and cascades across Pan's bedroom floor, creeping slowly towards me and eventually landing on the edge of my bed that faced the window.

I hastily pulled the covers up to my chin, as if they would create some kind of protection against the cold and the sorrow, breathing heavily and placed a shaking hand over my heart to begin to calm myself.

I felt Peter's warmth at my side, but it was as faint as a silouette, he's so far away, yet always so near, he's by my side, leading the way and he's got my back. The pain in my heart moves to my eyes, his memory stopping my world for a little while. My heart aches and my eyes cry, but the bitter sweet memory of how we talk makes my heart fly.

I know it was just a dream, but the memory was vivid, shocking and very much real.

I rarely woke up from nightmares in the same subtle, reserved way, preferring to scream or cry. My eyes were wide, my were lips slightly parted, searching the darkened room until I realised I was safe.

I had screamed so loudly and jumped back with such force that Peter's eyes snapped open and blinked at me twice. I began to realise how during the night, I had tossed and turned my way closer to him and now I was only a few centimetres from his body. 'Are you alright?'

With a mixture of awkwardness and embarrassment for waking him, I shuffled quickly away. 'Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry to wake you, I just had a bad dream.' I mumbled the final part and watched him send me a warm, comforting smile.

'S'okay, everyone gets them, particularly the memories.' He shrugged. Peter snuggled up closer to me and placed an arm around my waist. It almost relaxed me that he was by my side because, although I would never admit it, I had begun to care for my ex-husband again.

'Sleep.' He ordered then paused for a moment, smoothing the loose strands of hair out of my eyes. 'I'm right here.'

But my memories of what had happened never left me all night, refusing to let go of me like a strangling poison or an anaconda. It didn't take me long to realise I hadn't actually woken up from my nightmare.

'Tiger?' Peter asked softly from my side. 'Are you awake?'

'Umm,' I mumbled into the bed covers, my eyes still shut tight as if I was still trying to sleep, despite us talking to one another.

Peter sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair and mumbled, 'Do you wanna do something else, I can't sleep.'

'Yep,' I said brightly, popping the "p" and hopped up from the bed. I didn't much like the idea of going back to sleep incase I had the same vivid nightmare as before that gave me shivers.

~

I bit my lip and gently moved my queen across Peter Pan's jagged, wooden chess board that he told me he had made. I was in awe of the beauty of the pieces, because it must've taken him ages to carve each piece individually. I let it go hesitantly and anxiously inspected the board, to see whether this placed one of my most precious pieces in danger. It was now diagonally from my rook and stood before Peter Pan's King.

'Check mate?' I squeaked, blinking up at Pan in confusion. When Pan nodded, as proudly as possible, I just huffed and crossed my arms. He had spent many rainy days trying to teach me how to play chess when we were married and now I was expected to believe that I could beat him so easily. I looked tiredly at the best chess player in Neverland as I tipped Peter's King over in angry defeat. 'Again, Peter?'

'You are becoming very talented, Tiger,' Pan commended with a pride smile to his apprentice as he went to set up the board again. I was nonplussed and just narrowed my eyes angrily.

My eyes narrowed, with an intelligence and diligence beyond my youthful appearance. Pan had sacrificed his queen merely minutes into the game, and both of his rooks and knights had been toppled shortly after.

I was one of the few people among the Lost Ones in Neverland that had the patience and wit to master the game of chess. Even so, I knew that I was not as talented as Peter led me to believe. This was possibly because Pan didn't want to win just incase he put me off, but this didn't have any affect on me at all. 'Pan, you let me win.' I decided finally, folding my arms in front my chest accusingly. 'You always let me win.'

'I do not,' Pan retorted, but he was an obvious liar.

'Pan, chess is your forte and you boasted before you taught me how to play that no one could ever defeat you, let I do every time we play. You never fail, yet you always let me win when we play chess.' I replied tiredly. I was the only one to play against him because the other Lost Boys knew that Pan's sheer determination to win at chess (although this could be said for everything) had led him to always win.

Pan finished assembling the board and sighed heavily. 'Tiger, I don't let you win, I just don't play hard to ensure that you don't get put off, because your the only one who plays with me and it gets a little annoying after a while.' He admitted.

'I see, but I'm not a child. I would like to be challenged and taught your real skills.' I said eventually.

'Alright, if you insist on a true, fair match, let's play.' Pan's grin couldn't have widened any more if he had tried, excited to finally show case the technicalities of the game and how skilled he was at mastering them. He had known me for a very long time, centuries in fact, and so he knew me well enough to know that I was interested in the tactics involved with winning rather than sympathy.

In merely twelve moves, Pan had annihilated me and had taken victory. I had been more satisfied with this loss than I had with my multiple victories. 'Thank you, Pan,' I said gratefully.

Peter Pan chuckled to himself as he collected the chess pieces ready to put them away. 'Do I need to remind you that Peter Pan never fails?'

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