Monster // Peter Pan (Robbie Kay) (OUAT)

Chapter Thirty Seven

Author's Note:

Life updates are at the end of the chapter!

Sequel - I know it's been unclear, but the Tease sequel is canceled.  I explained this in my last author's note as well.  I will most likely be rewriting the story instead, but I have decided not to do the sequel ):  However, the Monster sequel is crucial to the ending of Monster, so that is still on (: 
EDIT: There's still some confusion! Monster is still on and going! The book I wrote freshman year (Tease) is not. Sorry!!!

PLEASE leave personal questions to ask me in the comments!  I will answer them at the end of the next chapter (:

Sorry this is trash im so tired

Song Recommendations:

1. Traphouse by Tory Lanez

2. Julia by SZA

3. Healthy Moon by DIIV

Chapter Thirty Seven

Day 95

Periodically, I consider the absence of time.

As human beings, we tend to demand for control in all things.  We become daunted at the idea that there are things around us that we can't touch, can't tame, can't hold down with all the strength that runs through the fibers of our every muscle.  We can not put a leash around the storm clouds.  We can not drug the ocean and bring it to a slumber.  And we can not slow time; where I am from, time controls when the storm clouds cry, when the tides pull the sea, when we wake and when we sleep and when we eat and when we leave our homes.  Time can hold you around the throat or put you to bed.

Everywhere but here.  Where time is absent, where we experience a million memories in one nanosecond, over, and over.  The sun still moves.  The waves rise and fall.  The trees sway in a breeze that must come from somewhere.  But we do not age a minute.  We can live thousands of lives in one, single, sliver of time. 

Deep thinking about something as abstract, yet tangible as time shook me a little.  I scoured my brain for a moment to see if I could estimate how long I've been here.  Sometimes I feel as if it's been minutes: sometimes years.

I remained alone in the clearing, the boys still working in the training center, my own tired body resting on the stone benches circling the barren fire pit.

The emptiness of recent events gave me an overbearing amount of figurative time to think, and to think about what?  How lonely I was?  How bored I was?  How anxious?

Anxiety for sure came into mind.  Something ominous lingered over Neverland.  It wasn't through Pan, I felt.  Though, he is still scattered about.  I could look right into his eyes that are so difficult to live in and not have a clue where he was.

But the sinister feeling that hovered over me like a fog was rampant, relevant, and very real. 

And so I wondered what devout souls lived here before.  I wondered if there were boys before the ones who reside here now.  I wondered how big the hands were that played among the rocks, or the length of the feet that crossed through the forest.  And then I wondered, what head lay in my bed before me, what dreams fell through their pillow, what tears soaked into the woodwork, what heartbeats and sweet pulses and slow breaths and sticky sweat slept in my lazy bed?  Previous to me, previous to my existence here, who else had dirty hands and chipped fingernails and callused feet and sunburned lips?

I smiled a little at the idea.  I wasn't sure if I was amused, jovial, or felt a solace at the thought of my daydream.  But I was smiling, at least a bit.  Until the fog that surrounded me and kept me warm dissipated.