VICIOUS (II) : peter pan ouat

How to Be a Girl

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.