VICIOUS (II) : peter pan ouat

How to Light a Lamp

Chapter 4

    It's dark in the forest, and it almost seems as if the trees are sucking the light up in them. I can make out the grey shapes of the stars and the moon above, but they don't give off any light. There is nothing but darkness.

    The trees only seem to get denser as I step forward, until it feels like I can barely squeeze between them. I'm trying to get to the shore, but I don't know where I'm going. The stars spin with me as I turn around. I can't find my steps.

    Slimy, cold hands run up inside my cloak, wrapping around my arms as skin rakes down them. I spin around, my body ramming into the trees beside me. Dodging around them, looking at the figure who approaches me.

    Walela's body falls to the ground. Her bloody hands land on my boots, gripping them tightly. My body hits the ground as I try to spin around and get up.

    I reach up, trying to use the tree to help hoist me off the ground. There is no tree beside me, instead it's Johnny. He stumbles closer to me, he rips my dagger out of his neck. A heavy corpse lands on my legs, and I barely have the strength to shimmy out beneath him.

    Bumping backwards, I turn around to see Gregory. His hands are wrapped tightly around my neck. As he lifts my feet up off the ground, I begin to lose the feelings in my toes.

    My frail body drops on the corpse of Max. His face so mangled, I can see his own cheek bones piercing out of his skin. His teeth are mashed in on themselves, and he's missing an eye. The other is swollen, as well as the flesh that is strung around it.

    I try to scream, but the only sound that comes from the trees is Pan's laugh. I can't see him, but he's there, taunting me. Laughing at my suffering.

    "Charlie." I can hear my sister's voice.

    Sweat sticks my hands and legs together, and as I sit up in Peter's dark room, dimly lit by a dying oil lamp, I realise that I am alone.

    The sheets slowly fall off my shoulders, and that's when I realise I'm sitting straight up. The only thing I can hear is my heavy breathing, so I choose to concentrate on that.

    Breathe in. Breathe out.

    I can feel the soft sheets crinkling in my hands, and the pressure between my own lips pursed together.

    You are here. You are alive.

    I blink, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the room. Reaching over, I turn up the oil lamp, and the brass creaks against itself as the light warms the room.

    The Fear Run can't hurt you anymore.

    I let my feet fall against the cold rock floor. My socks are clean, lying on my shoes. I pull them on to my feet, the fabric no longer as scratchy as it was yesterday. Lacing my boots tightly, the pressure returns to my feet, making me feel somewhat secure.

    Next to the oil lamp is my hair ribbon, a shade of deep green. I tie my hair up quickly, only letting one loose strand fall forward.

    As I do the buttons up on my cloak, I can't help but peak around. The room is so dimly lit, even with the oil lamp on high, no one can see my secrets. It's so quiet, that anyone could hear them, but no one could see them.

    Which is why as my face turns pink, I feel no shame. The crease of my eyes, as they try to determine if they should smile or not, doesn't fade away in seconds as it would normally. I let my face feel what my voice wants to say. My head is buzzing with thoughts.

    I'm have nightmares every time I shut my eyes. I slept with Peter.

    Quickly standing up, I turn the oil lamp completely off, letting my feelings die with the flame. Outside of this room, I am not Charlotte. I don't get to feel sad for myself, or happy for myself, or really much for myself. Out there, I am Charlie. I am in charge of keeping myself and my people safe, no matter the cost. I have watch death stripped from the people around me, and it has only made me stronger.