The Lost Girl

Chapter One-The Boy

When Margaret grows up, she will have a daughter, who will be Peter's mother in turn; and so it will go on as long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.

Colette read these words of her favourite tale over and over fiercely, trying to block out the sounds, trying to vanish from the living room. She wished, oh how she wished, that she wasn't there, why couldn't she just stay up in her room away from the noise? Why couldn't they just be a family, like the happy ones on TV?

"You Cow! I spend hour after hour, day after day working for this family! And this is the thanks I get? You laze around the house, not doing any work! And then I come home and find this!" Her father was red in the face from bellowing at the woman in front of him.

Despite herself, Colette peered over the edge of the book. Janet stared coldly at the man, her beautiful face next to his thin red one. Tall and slim, with long ginger ringlets, and light blue eye shadow, she looked incredibly frail next to this…round tomato. She was incredibly surprised that her mother had not yet broken, like she usually did after just 20mins of arguing. Usually she would sit, staring at the floor, not looking up, and taking all the insults that he threw at her.

Janet gave a short, harsh laugh at Nigel's insult. "Working for this family?" she screamed, the Scottish lilt bouncing off all the walls. "And you think, just because you work for this family, you're a man? Ha! Aaron is much more of a man than you are!" Janet's green eyes quickly looked Nigel up and down. "And you know what?" she whispered, triumphant. "He's better in bed than you are."

She turned to walk out of the room, but Nigel exploded. Grabbing, her long silky hair, he swung Janet around and started to beat her face, bruising every inch, clawing at her smooth skin. And she kneeled, screaming, shrieking, and begging him to stop.

Colette clutched her ears, flinching at each beat as if her father were striking her and not her mother. Her fists were pressed so hard on her ear that she didn't even hear the door open, didn't hear Conner's desperate shout. She watched, without sound as her brother leapt into the beating, dragging Nigel off Janet with cries of "Stop you Bastard stop!"

Nigel fell backwards on top of Conner, who was still clutching his arms, breathing hard like a winded Rhino, watching as the elegant lady drew into a corner sobbing wretchedly.

Colette hated seeing her mother like this.

"What is going on now?" Conner shouted. Nigel shook him off, and slowly got off. "This woman is a whore!" he screamed. " A lying filthy whore!"

Nigel stormed over to where Colette was sat in the sofa and snatched Peter Pan out of her hands. He flung the book across the room. "Never Mind reading your blasted book! I want you to hear this!"

Colette started to get up but he flung her back into the sofa. "I'll make you listen!" He said, pinning her arms to her sides. Colette struggled and screamed and kicked at everything. "No!" She screamed. She'd already been tortured. Why did she have to listen to the account of her mother's affair again?

"Dad," Conner came forwards quietly. "Dad stop!"

But Nigel did not hear his son. Colette screamed like someone who was being attacked. She kicked hard—and her foot hit something. Nigel swore, clutching below. "You're gonna be like your mother!" Nigel shrieked after her, but she didn't hear.

Colette punched him, leapt from the chair and, grabbing her book, ran out of the house with a sob. "You're gonna be just like her! Get back here you little-"

Nigel was fast but Colette was faster. Very soon she had lost him. She ran like a cheetah; over hedges and fences past shops. In a couple of minutes she realised she was rushing down Portobello road. She swept across the road, narrowly avoiding a black taxi and raced into Kensington Gardens. Weaving in and out the trees and benches she ran, down the short path, past the lake and into the tiny enclosure. Tripping up on the steps she fell, hot tears falling onto the small plaque in front of the statue. Colette knelt in front of the small bronze boy, fingers playing the long flute. She couldn't hear his music, all she could hear were the cars driving up and down Portobello. The only people that could see her were the ducks on the lake and the animals and fairies carved into the Marooner's Rock on which the boy was standing.

Colette lovingly touched Peter's feet, staring up at him with her great dark blue eyes. "Why I can't I be like you?" She cried. "I want to be lost! I want to be careless too!"

He didn't answer.

She lowered her head onto her lap and cried.

Conner knew exactly where his sister would be. Calmly he walked along Portobello and into Kensington Gardens. A seven year old didn't need this. A seven year old should belong to a happy family, who didn't keep secrets from each other. Seven year olds didn't need an abusive father and an obedient mother.

Conner strolled past the fountain and down the small path to the Peter Pan Statue. That's where she'd always be. Conner knew that his little sister could relate to Peter. He could too. He was so lost, just like her and him.

Colette was crouched in front of the statue. Stars were twinkling onto a small heap wearing a green dungaree dress and a white t-shirt. Her shoulder length black curly hair was over her face. Beside her was a battered old hardback book. It was so dark, Conner could hardly see her.

He leant against the railings before the lake, gazing into the sky.

"You coming home then?"

Colette wiped her nose, looking up. "How can I go back? I cant stand it Con!" she asked in a whisper.

" You have to." Conner came over, lifting his sister's chin up. "The world isn't save any more."

Colette looked away. " I can't go back. I don't want to. And besides, I'm waiting for him."

"For Pan?"

"He told me he'd come soon." She sniffed. "It wont be long now."

"What if he never comes?"

"He will, I know it."

"Col," Conner sighed, then sat down next to his sister, one arm on his knee. He ran his hand through his long dark hair. "Come back. It wont be for long. There's something I have to tell you."

Colette stared. Conner grabbed her hand and stared into her eyes.

"I'm leaving school and going away. I'll get a job. I'm sure I'll be able to pass for 16."

"You won't. You need ID cards and qualifications and stuff to get a job."

"I don't need all that rubbish for this job. I'll earn loads of money and buy a flat. Then I'll come back for you. I promise."

"What about Mum."

"Colette, you need a future. If you stay at home, you'll never get one. You've got to go back. I'll come back for you in a year. I'll will. I'll be alright." He smiled, and then got up. "Come on."

Conner slowly lifted up his seven year old sister and staggered down the steps.

"Look!" Colette suddenly cried, pointing, eyes wide.

Conner swung around. "What?"

"It's him!"

"Col, I don't see anything."

"But he's there! He is! Sitting on the back fence."

"Col, you're seeing things."

Conner started home, carrying Colette in his arms. She still looked back. Maybe she was imagining things. She snuggled down into Conner's arms and closed her eyes.

So she never saw the tall, spiky blond haired boy fly off into the night sky.

Hey, everyone welcome. Thanks for reading! I ADORE Peter Pan, I loved it even before the 2003 movie came out. I love Jeremy Sumpter! WOO JEREMY YAY!

Now that I read this Chapter over to my self, it seems kind of harsh. I dont mind if you tell me. This chapter has the most swearing I think.

Please Review!It so nice to get them. Tell me what you think. I don't mind critism and questions. Thanks for reading. Second chappie up sooooooooon!

Love PuddyKat xxxx