ByCassidy Hale, writer at Creators.co

"Catch me of you can you dumb pirate!" The boy yells, hopping from furniture to furniture.

"Peter! Don't call your father dumb, you don't want to be mean and hurt his feelings do you?" His mother scolds.

"We're just playing, Mother, I didn't mean it." The redhaired boy says, sounding guilty. "Sorry Father."

"It's alright, Peter. I know you didn't mean to call me dumb." Father says, comforting his son. "It's all in fun and games."

"Until someone gets hurt. Now, go wash up and go to bed, Peter."

"But I'm not tired!" The boy protests. "And I still haven't beat the pirate!"

"You'll get the scoundrel next time, son. It's late, and our growing boy needs his rest." Father supports.

Acknowledging his defeat, Peter goes to the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and puts on his pajamas. Soon enough, the weariness he tried to brush off and escape catches up to him, causing his eyes to droop.

"Goodnight Mother, Father." He says, rubbing his eyes.

"Goodnight, Peter." His mother says, kissing his forehead while his dad ruffles his red locks.

Dragging his feet, the seven year old boy makes his way to bed. As he crawls under the covers, he thinks he hears his parents talking about what he'll do when he grows up.Words he doesn't understand drift to his ears.

"Maybe an architect... Accountant... Business owner.."

He doesn't know what any of those are, but he knows he doesn't want to be them. Peter never wants to grow up, he wants to fight pirates and have endless adventures. Surely his mother and father know that. He's just hearing things, he needs to get some sleep.

The next two years go by in a blur. Every so often, Peter would hear his parents speaking of what he'll be as he matures. He now understands some of what his parents hope for, but even so they hold the same appeal to him as they did when he was seven.

He has grown up quite nicely. His hair's red hue has only become more prominent and rich, making his green eyes pop. The freckles that once dusted the bridge of his nose have spread across his cheeks, and he has lost many of his baby teeth, his new permanent teeth growing in large and slightly crooked.

His desire to fight pirates while having adventures of his own has only grown, as has his distaste for adulthood. All his parents talk of what he'll be when he becomes a man has filled him with not only dread, but anger.

He's told his parents of his feelings, to which they only laughed and told him he'd change his mind. He knows he'll never change his mind, never want to be a man. He's decided the next time he hears anything more about his becoming an adult, he'll run away.

So, when he hears his parents' voices discussing his future while playing with his toy train that night, his decision is final. He puts on his shoes and a jacket, and begins to make his escape.

Standing up, he tiptoes to his bedroom window. He knows he's too short to get up without alerting his parents, so he moves his desk chair closer to the window as to not disturb them.

Peter uses all the strength he can muster to push up the glass barrier. The window let's out a high squeak of protest, causing Peter to freeze. He listens, waiting for his parents to barge in asking what the devil is happening, or even searching for an intruder.

When nothing happens, Peter continues pushing up on the window, now with more caution. He manages to make an opening just large enough to squeeze himself through.

Casting a glance over his shoulder and deeming the coast clear, the boy pulls himself out into the cold night.

Peter looks at his home one last time before turning and making his way through the darkness. He doesn't know what he'll do, but he knows going back isn't an option.

Perhaps he could find a new home, get a new Mother and Father. They could play pirates and go out for picnics together forever. Or would they just be the same as his old parents, always planning what he would be when he became a man?

'It's too much to risk.' Peter decides. He'll just have to make it on his own, surely it can't be all bad. His thought process us immediately changed as a carriage splashes him with day old rainwater.

Tears filled with despair begin to run down his cheeks. Just when he begins to consider turning back, a faint light catches his eye.

Glancing up, Peter sees a small glowing orb floating toward him. Fear and curiosity fill him as his green eyes gaze at the beautiful light.

As it grows nearer to him, Peter begins to notice a hazy outline, one of a person. A fairy perhaps? Soon the figure is right in front of his nose, definitely a fairy. One with blonde hair pulled into a bun and shining blue eyes.

A quiet, high-pitched sound reaches his ears and he realizes the creature is speaking to him.

"What?" He asks.

"I said, why are you out here alone?"

"I ran away from Mother and Father. I don't want to be a man, I want to always be a little boy and have fun."

"Then come with me. I'll take you to a wonderful place, where you never grow old and you can have fun forever!"

"But I am so big."

"I got you covered. Just close your eyes and think lovely thoughts."

Closing his eyes, Peter began filling his mind with thoughts of fighting pirates, eating candy, and never having to grown into an adult. He feels the slight tickle, one that feels as if dust where falling on him, and he is lifted into the air.

"Now take my hand." The fairy says, reaching out. Too awestruck for words, Peter simply holds out a finger, allowing the small girl to hold on. "I'm Tinkerbell, by the way."

"Peter." Peter introduces, slightly breathless. "Where are we going?"

"A place called Neverland, you'll love it." Tinkerbell says cheerfully, leading him towards the second star, the one to the right.

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