Peter Pan سیکنڈ to the Right- A Peter Pan Origin Story

Epic0n posted on Jun 30, 2015 at 08:24PM
The most TRUE origin for the boy who never grew up. Where everything in the source material has been accounted for and gives a story much deeper than once thought.
There's always a way to do the impossible. You just have to find it.
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پہلے زیادہ سے سال ایک Epic0n said…
PREVIEW- CHAPTER 1

The playground square was half-colored with green grass and grey stones, surrounded on three sides by black bars that jutted up and crossed to unclimbable heights. To everyone outside of the orphanage, this was a prison. To the orphans of St. Augustine's House for Abandoned and Delinquent Children, this was paradise. The moment the bells rang from the classrooms –the signal for recess- they all rushed into the green square to play and enjoy a few measly minutes away from studies, even settling with the old balls and sticks for games.

But none of the boys looked out beyond the black bars- except one.

That boy's head leaned against the black bars, holding onto them like a prisoner. Yet he wasn't sad at all; in fact, his head stayed up in an optimistic stare towards the people, streets and the sky. It was the only time David got to see the world beyond the bars of the orphanage.

While it's true that he was able to look out from the huge windows in the sleeping quarters, here it looked alive, like there was more to it than what he saw at night. Some of the people even slowed down to stare at his pale, freckled face, like he was on display, but never to talk to him. He knew already that a fault with living behind these bars was getting ignored from the outside. Orphans weren't liked very much in London.

Yet he kept looking out, regardless of the stares. Maybe, just maybe, he would find his parents, his best chance to get to the world outside. He had always dreamed of them all living in a place where there was always color, places to run, trees to climb, and nightlights to help him sleep at night.

Yet here, on an autumn Saturday in 1913, clouds blocked the sky and colored his world with dull shades. The only bright colors were from the leaves still on the trees, but they were slowly drying and taken away by the wind. London's autumns were always grey; the skies that were filled with sun now replaced with clouds and rain. Maybe that's why everyone else appeared so dreary and bland, including the administrating Nuns.

Maybe the outsiders thought he was in a time out, that he deserved to be behind the bars of the orphanage. But they wouldn't know anything about him if they didn't ask. Plus they were mostly what he began to call grown up.

He had learned to repulse a new word- grown up. It had bad thoughts attached to it, especially since it came from the person he least liked in the Orphanage's administration: Father Kenneth, the only man among the nuns, with cold eyes and a sturdy white beard. He had said it before, when the 12th year boys, like him, were starting to learn more of the New Testament. He had said that this was the "first step to becoming what you all want to be- good grown-ups." Anything Father had to say never crossed well with him, even if Father rarely spoke to the boys outside of sermons.

He was supposed to have learned a lot today, especially after what the class was told at the beginning of the lesson. Sure he wasn't able to pay attention, but that day he just didn't want to hear it at all. The teachers all blamed it on his daydreams, which he suddenly drifted of into. Those same dreams enthralled his friends at night, warming up the cold dormitory, as he spun a tale about some place they never saw or heard of before. Places where clouds flew below the ground, where water flowed upwards, where people could fly higher than birds, places where people were so tiny they used prams to get around, or where ravens could talk and pigeons wore little suits and walked with canes and brown top-hats.

Yet time always flew when he lost himself in daydreams. The end-of-recess bell rang him back into reality, into the one thing he hated most; the single-file line back to studies.

He was the only one who always looked down to avoid getting attention to his face. Even though some didn't mind, others still avoided him. Most of them were new kids, and they spread the rumor they heard from veteran boys; he had a rare disease that gave him hideous spots on his face.

They marched in tight rows as their hard shoes clomped on the cobble-stone floor. He followed his row of classmates to the classroom, shorter than most of them, until a Nun walk straight up to him and got his full attention.

"David, please come with me. Father wants to see you." It was Sister Agnes, and she looked like she was trying to hold back a smile.

The surrounding boys didn't know what to think as he was pulled out of line. Out of the Hundreds of boys here, why him?

David's mouth was shut tight in fear.

She chuckled a little, which disconcerted him.

They walked the rest of the way not only in silence, but at a quicker pace than usual. The booth was on the other side of the building, and past the huge sanctuary, shrouded in darkness due to the absence of light, near the Priest's office.

When she went to open the booth, a stench of garlic, wrinkles and some powder rose up and smacked him in the face. It took a while to get used to, but it smelled terrible as he went inside.

As she shut the door, Sister Agnes assured him she would be there.

Probably to snoop on what Father Priest says.

After the door closed, the only light was a small candle in the corner of the small quarters. The rest of its walls needed serious cleaning, as they looked black from the light's reflection, or lack thereof.

Then he heard the door open on the other side and as he saw a silhouette of a person walk in, he immediately bowed and took of his hat, a muscle reflex of respect. He came so close to the seat that he began to hear mumblings of Latin- David never liked Latin. Something about knowing a language he'll never use in real life made him despise it.

Then the mumbling stopped.

"David, I presume?" His voice was raspy and direct.

"Yes, Father Priest."

"I've called you in here for something very important. So important that I needed to tell you in private."

"Of course, Father."

He cleared his throat and sealed David's fate.

"I thought there was something special about you the moment you came into our lives, that. I've been told that you were adopted twice, yes?"

David felt like he should have known that he did twice.

"Well, every time you left, you seemed to find a way back here. That's how I knew that G-d had a plan for you. As you grow up (there are those words again) before our eyes, I've seen you become the man that everyone else wants. I can safely say that you'll be able to take my place someday, with proper training. You understand?"

David paused in utter disbelief.

"I'm to... replace you... as the Priest?"

"Correct, my son. As of tomorrow, you will be trained to replace me when I pass on."

Even when in shock, David only questioned Father Priest, to spite his rules.

"Tomorrow? But d-does that mean I can't be adopted? I can't leave the orphanage? Ever?"

After a tiny pause, Father made it clear.

"Yes, David. You will stay here. The Nuns have already taken you off of the list for adoption. No one else will take you away from what G-d has intended for you. No evil shall taint your soul."

The next question just slipped out, without any thought.

"What did you see in me that… made me so…different?"

Father sounded more and more confident by the minute.

"I'm glad you asked. You have all the proper traits of a true servant of G-d: humble, kind, respectful and disciplined."

How?

"Everyone else can see that you were born to be a messenger of the word of G-d. You will be a greater person than all of the other boys in the orphanages, no matter what they become."

"But I-"

"No more questions David. You are missing your studies. Now, accept this message with honor and walk with pride that G-d has bestowed upon thee. Concentrate and excel in your studies. Become the man G-d and everyone else wants you to be. Please forgive me for leaving you now, as I must return to my own business now. Sister will return you to your class."



Sister Agnes was ecstatic, but David felt a depressing shock that not only frustrated him, but crushed his dreams. He would never be able to walk out the doors of this place. She kept saying how much pride he should feel, how much honor it is to be chosen, but he felt worse and worse. She never once looked down to see his feet shuffle, his face towards the ground. That was the problem with this place; they never cared to look at the children's faces. Only one Nun did, and she was the closest person that David had to being a Mother.

Yet as he returned to his class, the teaching Nun's lecture turned into white noise. He had always thought some nice couple would adopt him, take him into their world and he'll make the most of it. But now he'd never leave, in order to fulfill some "destiny" he never knew about, could never question, and could never change.



Sister Deborah was livid. Agnes had just told her the "news" and she wouldn't even sit down. All she could think of was moving her legs as fast as possible to Father Kenneth's office to give a piece of her mind. She would demand an explanation, and then find a way to get him back on the list. It never took her so fast to reach his office. She rapped only once on the door before she heard a surprisingly soft "come in."

She kept some self-control as she walked in and started the conversation with:

"Good morning, Father." She put on a calmer smile.

"What can I do for you…Sister?" He seemed to relish it, like it was fun to call her, or any other nun, a lower rank. She hated that hidden contempt he carried around his neck like a cross.

She closed the door and promptly sat down. "Well, Father, I… I heard you made your choice for a… successor."

"Yes, Sister. I quite have. And you of all the Sisters should be able to understand why." He shifted at his desk, as if finding a comfortable position in his big red chair.

"Why what?" She sat upright, trying to hold her dignity.

"Why I chose David. I'm sorry for not asking you about him."

She sat in silence, looking away from his pale gaze. Sister Deborah never expected him to apologize; he was supposed to start droning on about him before she could cut him off in dramatic fashion.

"Thank you for accepting. Now that that's been taken care off, you may go now."

Her eyes shot back at his slouching figure, shrouded by the dim light and small behind the mountain of books on his desk.

"Well… With- With all due respect, Father, that's not why I came in here."

"Oh?" His bony hands gripped the arm rests.

"I really don't understand why you selected him."

He took a fast breath. "Well, that's a shame. Everyone else knows why."

She tried again. "Father Sir, please explain why. I would like to know."

"…Alright… Sister. If you must know, then here's why-"

He shifted forward again. "Because he's the one. The chosen one. I can feel it."

"Father, Sir, what on earth are you talking about?"

"I just know it. The way Moses was chosen by G-d, I just know. David is special, Sister."

"But how can you be so sure? Have you asked about any other boys to the Nuns?"

"Do you not think, Sister, that I wouldn't consider any other boys?"

"No, not at all, it's just that there are others that are better, more suited to be 'chosen'."

He shifted even further towards the desk, towards her. She stood straight.

"Are you questioning my judgment, Sister?"

Her heart beat hard in her chest. Her patience ran dry.

"Well, is it right to keep a good boy from a family, Father?"

The anger grew like a darkness creeping through the cracks in the room.

"How dare you-"

She stood up in defiance, the first time since she came here.

"He's just a boy, Father! And you are denying what G-d has offered him on His good green Earth! Do you think he wants to be here, Father? To be your little puppet to serve you even after you pass? That is a cruel, heartless thing to do, and I demand a good reason for it! You and I both know what would happen if you were wrong, and that sin is too great to bear!"

"Sister-"

"And how are you so sure? Have you seen Julius? He's the first one to offer grace, and he's one of the older boys!"

"SISTER-"

"Or Jonathan, the lead choir boy? Or Maximillian, the star pupil-"

"ENOUGH! SISTER, ENOUGH! Sit DOWN!"

She stopped in her tracks. Fast breaths ran through her chest as her legs shook out of plain sight.

"First off, I NEVER SIN. How dare you accuse me to faulting in such a way, like I am an old fool! You may think you know him, but you're just one little stupid girl! The rest of us see him as a king waiting to be crowned, as he shall be."

He stood up and approached her chair, the defiance still in her eyes.

"No matter what you can say or do, he will stay here. The law shall not stand in the way of G-d's Will, as you foolishly think it will. And I'm never wrong, Sister. Look at where I am and where you are. Don't you remember to honor thy Father…Sister?"

Her courage was ebbing away faster with every circle he made around her, like a lion circling the prey.

"So, should you see him again, I want you to tell him how wonderful it is to become a man of the cloth. Tell him why it is so important to stay here and what demons and dangers are out there. Or do you want me to remind you of the corner where you came from?"

Her eyes grew wide and wet as she held down a sob.

"Good. I must go pray again now for another soul that need to be redeemed. I would watch what I say next time…Sister."

He left her in the office, her posture bent over in a disgraced heap in the chair.