Pan's Game || OUAT Fanfic || EDITED VERSION

Chapter 29; Is It True Hurt People Hurt People?

"Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will only cause permanent physiological damage."

~ Unknown

-

Andrew's P.O.V

-

    The sound of a rooster calling is what wakes me up. I cover my ears, drowning out the early morning's wake up call. Wait a minute. There aren't any roosters in Neverland. Where am I? I open my eyes, all I see is white. My hands go up to my face, shielding my eyes from the bright light. I peak through my fingers, realizing that I'm staring at the sun though an open window.

    I bring my hands away from my face, feeling a rough, scratchy fabric under my hand. Only then do I realize that I'm lying on a bed with a threadbare blanket on me. The plain colour and pattern of the blanket looks awfully familiar... I bolt up. No, Pan couldn't be so cruel as to send me back here. I scan my surroundings. The faded, red rug is still there, just the way it was when I left many years ago.

    The sight of the rusty bar windows remind me of the time I tried to run away when I was fourteen. The constant buzzing of the lamp on the wooden table are like nails on a chalkboard. The whirling of the ceiling fan brings me back to the countless times I cried myself to sleep, using the fan's steady rhythm to lull me to sleep.

    The yellow walls with the peeling wallpaper are still the same. I look down at myself, it's like someone's turned back the clock because I'm nine again. I have nothing but bad memories of this place. The kids here were terrible. Especially Bri—

    The wooden door swings open, slamming into the wall. The loud noise jarring my thoughts. Suddenly, a girl no older than eighteen walks in, flanked by two other girls. The middle girl is dressed in a red crop top, black flats and blue jeens. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a high ponytail. The chain on her jeens jingle with each step she takes.

    The girl on her left is tall and slim with a fake tan. Her long black hair falls over her shoulder in waves. She's dressed in a black tank top and green camouflage miniskirt. The zips of her black, knee high boots reflect the lamp's light on the floor. The girl on her right is a pudgy brunette with a smirk on her face. Her neon pick romper is truly hideous, it makes me wish I was blind.

    "Look, girls," the middle girl says. "The runt's come home."
    Her friends laugh.
    "What should we do to him this time?" she asks the girl with the fake tan.
    "How bout' 'water treatment'?" suggests the girl with the hideous outfit.
    The older girl smirks. "Good idea, Jeanette."

    A feeling of dread washes over me. Not water treatment, that's the worst. The older girl grabs me by the collar of my shirt, her smirk widens as she sees the pure terror on my face.
    "We'll have to use the haunted bathroom, Brianna," says the girl to her left. "Mrs Anderson never goes there on her night patrols."

    Brianna drags me out of the room. Unfortunately, my nine year old self can't get out of her grip. I trash and try to hit but to no avail. She punches me when I try to call for help. Jeanette opens the bathroom door for us and Brianna drags me inside. My heart is in my mouth as I hear the sound of Olivia turning the tap on.

    I claw at Brianna's face, pleading for her to stop. "No, please!"
    "Be quiet!" she shouts, slapping me in the face.
    Olivia turns the tap off when the tub is almost filled to the bim.
    "Jean, Olive, guard the door." Brianna orders, keeping her hold on me.

    The two girls nod and leave the room, closing the door behind them. I cry out as Brianna throws me into the tub, wetting my clothes. She grabs me by the hair and laughs. Brianna proceeds to dunk me into the tub, holding my head underwater. I scream as I go under, but my cries for help are muffled by the water. She seems to know exactly when to pull me up.