I’m
quite sure the story should not be told but a sad thing is everything
slips out eventually. Even the existence of my son, his little story
very different from my own. Don’t worry, you’ll learn in
the end. It takes a very long time to write something such as this,
being in my situation. Such a rough time, taking the time to focus a
hand and then hide the papers with the mysterious writing.
Off
of such a subject, I am afraid that the story of Never Land isn’t
as happy as now, what with circulating stories, as it was when it
began. I created Never Land, to escape such a thing as being old. It
gave all those in it the ability to be eternal. I didn’t know
the difference between eternal and immortal. It was my mistake.
However, it didn’t happen for quite some time, centuries even.
I
created my world, among the stars so only a certain few could reach
it. I created it to such a preference only I thought I could truly
enjoy. I crafted the most beautiful women, but eventually transformed
them into beautiful mermaids, capable of no longer trapping me in a
gaze where I would do such bidding, no matter the cost. Many
beautiful women can do that to a man, or another woman.
I
created the perfect hunting ground, full of game that would win
hundreds of dollars back on Earth. There was no end to the trees and
hidden places I could stay. I created another race, a pit of Indians
on this island, an eternal fight of hide and seek, catch and release.
Though I was very rarely caught, being a very sore loser and all.
Even
then, it eventually grew lonely for me. I had the Indians, but I had
no others and those who did not understand me. So I made some. I made
a boy, a boy with rare hair, pointed ears and the ability to fly. A
boy without a conscious, a boy who could grow but never grow old, the
perfect boy anyone could ever covet. He was like a son, though I
really didn’t have children.
Yet
still, I did not want such a boy to grow lonely as I did. So as time
passed, I gathered the dust of pixies, flying off and bringing him
boys. Children to play with and spend time with, children who did not
grow as he did, children who had nothing else other than a terrible
and extremely short life ahead of them if I didn’t take them.
So I took them, conscious clean and led them back to an island. I was
always the father figure, and my word was always followed.
So
my creation grew, slowly surrounded by young boys until he stopped.
He could have been said to be 13 and no more, maybe less but it was
of no matter to me. None of us were aging anymore anyway, so numbers
were a thing of a different world.
For
the last birthday, I gave my boy, my creation, something he had never
had like the rest of us. I gave him a shadow, but it was a loose
thing and extremely mischievous, just like my boy. It was always
running off, wrecking the island but it was always fixed. I didn’t
bother with discipline.
I
didn’t think it would cause havoc, or lead someone with the
ability to find such a place. I had not sent the rumors but those
things appear on their own. A place among the stars where one may
live forever, no aging till a terrible death awaits. A place of
immortality and eternal entertainment, where a team of men together
fought and eventually achieved such a journey, using that damned
shadow. I didn’t blame it, but I hated it with a passion after
such an incident occurred.
I
would’ve welcomed them had they not come with a vicious intent.
They had a ridiculous notion that I could reverse their age and make
them young again! Which I could not of course, and if I had I
would’ve done it to myself. Sadly, they didn’t understand
and they turned from us, circling the island in a ship and becoming
everlasting pirates. A giant kink in my neck to say the least but I
took us all to the tree, an old tree with a crank in the biggest
branch as if someone had hung themselves. Still, I had a cavern
beneath there and it is where I hid us all. The Indians fared well,
but I didn’t trust the children to understand death. They never
had seen someone die and there was no memory of their time before
here…I made sure of that.
Either
way, I made sure to keep them hidden. The pirates were suddenly like
a game though, and my creation enjoyed playing them like cards, even
though I warned him not too. Still, off he went with the boys
sometimes and played ‘save the brothers!’ They always
came back, so eventually I stopped scolding them to quit it. It was a
good game I suppose, and it never hurt them…so I just let
them.
The
problem, however, was the things that happened. My creation, as I
have said, wasn’t created with a conscious. He was my first
every making and I did indeed mess up. The playing was rough, costing
the ‘pirates’ lots of scars and blood. Such things truly
fascinated him and I didn’t say it was bad. I let him hurt the
others, stopped when he was older than them and then moving onto the
next older boy. I never scolded him and it was my fault.
He
moved on, eventually, to other things that weren’t good either.
He had a certain thing to him, an ability very similar to mine. He
made things, like different game to slaughter or more mermaids. He
made the princess of the Indian tribe. I didn’t stop him, I
found it fascinating really.
And
then he made the crocodile. That damned monster.
I
heard first of it when pirates started screaming off the shores,
especially the captain. The boy enjoyed making things with
problems…and the crocodile’s problem was it always had
this annoying ticking noise emanating from its innards. He had
learned all this from Earth. He was really the only one who
understands any sort of death. He had experienced it from Earth,
seeing women and men, children and infants, animals all die and never
show up the next day. I knew he enjoyed watching the problems evolve.
As
the crocodile found its favorite meal, the old captain, the ticking
increased in sound an tempo whenever it stumbled up said captain.
Annoying thing, but always growing in size and only stopping when it
could swallow the grown man whole. I watched from afar, never
stopping it just watching it.
My
creations abilities truly interested me, for them seemed to grow
stronger though my boy never did himself. He kept creating things,
making things and screwing things up as well. None of the boys could
write, nor read so things of knowledge were never made. The only
things created were those of entertainment.
Then
problems made me take action.
The
pirates had taken the princess and, in the end, taken her life. My
creation was….furious to say the least. He flew in, his pixie
creation as his side and was eventually captured by said pirates. His
buddies went after him and they, too, were taken.
I
was quick to step in, not enjoying the thought of my first thing
being destroyed; though at the time I didn’t actually know it
could be. Immortals cannot die, being eternal means you can die…only
if you are fatally wounded. I didn’t know that could happen
though I learned.
I
marched up the rocks and, as the ship passed, I swung my sword and
dropped down onto the deck. I marched across, watching the surprise
at the pirates but not being attacked for there had been no command.
I had marched right up the stairs and taken that captain by his
stupid collar, slamming him up against a hard wood post and holding
him there, glaring.
“Where
is he?” my voice was dark, and it seemed to echo in the space
around us. It was just the two of us for a moment, glaring each other
down. The silence was shattered when that crazy old pirate began to
laugh hysterically, shaking beneath my pressing arm.
“Oh,
old man, you think I have him and all his fellow brothers? Think
again!” he finished it by shouting it in my face. However, I
knew that it wasn’t true. I turned my head as something caught
the corner of my eye…and there was his blasted shadow. It was
tiptoeing its way across the deck and towards me.
I
dropped the captain, walking towards it and then reaching down and
yanking up a trap door at the shadows feet. I tossed it back, taking
a dagger from my shoe and throwing it down into the darkness.
Immediately a sound of blade to rope began.
Within
seconds a set of animal skins, the children’s clothing, emerged
and stood behind me before the creation burst into the air with a
roar exploding from deep within his chest. I looked up, frowning
because he had never been so reckless. Then the children set upon the
pirates, fighting them right before my eyes.
My
boy was flying around, sword fighting with the captain with the upper
hand by flying lightly in the air. I watched in surprise as the
captains sword went flying. I watched it go before I heard a blood
curdling scream. My eyes caught the delicate arch of blood flying
through the air before I heard a sickening thud. My eyes cut back to
my creation, grinning into the eyes of the captain. The captain, on
the other hand ,was screaming as he stumbled back from a pool of
blood, holding her arm to his chest and cradling his hand to his
body.
Then
I realized that ‘hand’ to his chest was just air. His
hand was sitting in a pool of blood at my creations feet. I looked
up, staring at his wild eyes as he launched forward, prepared to
plunge his dagger into the captain’s chest. I heard the sound,
sickening to my stomach, of a body driven through with a sword, that
awful noise of smooth metal cutting into flesh, through organs inside
and then exiting through the back.
Yet,
when my eyes fell upon the pair it wasn’t the captain who was
laying on his back, quickly laying in a pool of his own blood. It was
my creation, my eternal and first true achievement. I let out a
primal scream, darting forward and shoving pirates here and there,
creating my own fountains of blood as my sword cut through each of
them.
I
lay at his side, my knees in the pool of crimson and soaking through,
sticky on my knees. I leaned down, pulling him up into my arms and
brushing his bangs from his face. He couldn’t speak, blood was
pouring out of his lips and making glittering trails down his chin
and dripping onto his clothing. I just held him, and soon the light
had disappeared from his eyes…and his breathing paused, trying
again before his chest feel and didn’t go up again.
Soon,
the boy began to turn to dust in my arms, slipping through my fingers
and being whisked away to who knows where. Maybe to become a star,
maybe to lift up a pixie but in all honestly I didn’t care and
I still do not. All I know is it was one of the worst feelings ever
to see something so important slip away.
I
stood up, turning to the captain and staring at him. I could kill
him, but I was not one to do so. I didn’t kill people. So
instead, I reached down. Before my boy had died, I had begun to hear
that god awful ticking sound, and so I knew exactly what to do.
Taking the bloody hand in my own, I marched to the edge of the ship
and I hurled it over the edge.
And
yet I stood up once more, marching my way off the ship. The others
followed me, their heads hung low and in surprise for now their
leader had disappeared. I knew something though, I was going to make
a new one. I had to make a new one. There was no such thing as Never
Land without such a boy, a mischievous, older boy.
So,
I began again. I did everything as I had before, re-making a perfect
thing. However, I knew better than to mess up this time. Still that
had been my entire problem before. I had created something without
the ability to think things through, or have empathy for its deeds. I
still had no idea how to create such a thing.
So
there I was, pacing night and day before I wondered. Could I give him
my own? Would I be able to transfer my conscious to his mind and
create him anew, without such a heavy flaw? And how would I do it?
I
decided to die. It was my decision and I didn’t even think it
was a bad thing. I had lived so long, and I would leave behind a
legacy of some sort right? Of course, I had to believe that. So I
took something with a name not worthy and I made it worthy.
I
took my rope, making a noose and left the children surrounding the
creation. He would surely awaken, and he would awaken with another
thing his past self didn’t possess.
So,
the second I started to jump, I whispered “Peter Pan.”
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