Away From Here

As Peter was overlooking the dark water, I couldn't help but sense the sadness on his face. Having being around him the longest I knew when something was bothering him. Peter sat on a rock we liked to call “the Lighthouse”, because it was settled on the highest point of our hideout. His dark green tunic made of makeshift felt and leaves turned a shade of black in the light of the two moons. His hat of leather and wool laying softly on the bowl of his head. The red feather from a cardinal tucked on the left side of the hat. I approached him,

“What's wrong Peter?” I asked with my voice shaking.
He turned his head towards my voice, for a split second we made direct eye contact. The whites of his eyes in the dark showed the direction of his stare. I couldn't entirely see his face in the moonlight, making me put the torch in my line of sight. I saw, for a moment, his eyes full of emptiness and worry. He turned back towards the water.
“Do you ever get tired of fighting pirates? Do you ever get tired messing with the Natives? Adventures never lose their fun, I want something more.”
I walked up and sat down next to him on the ground. I tilted my head, trying to understand what he meant. Since I can only read his face, not his mind, I questioned,
“What do you mean? You don't like sword fights and killing those dastardly pirates?”
“No, I do! I enjoy teaching those lame-brains that no one pushes us around!” he answered excitedly. But he continued,
“Tootles, you ever wonder what is out there?”
Peter always loved searching for new lands. He was the king of exploration. We both looked out onto the water, the moons were settled high in the sky. Glowing. Shinning. The Lighthouse gave us more than a pretty view from the top, it also provided enough space to think clear. Peter never slept much, so if he wasn't in his hut, he was would be here.
“No, I guess I never thought of much else.”
Peter turned his head in my direction, speaking very carefully, “I'd always thought there would always be something new for me, and us, to find. I go out on these adventures with you and the rest of the Lost Boys, but where else is there to go?”
By the casualness of his posture; his legs crossed, tucked up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs, Peter seemed to lighten up. He would often do a rocking motion when in deep thought. Peter was never one to sit still.
We both sat in quiet for a moment or two. The silence demanded we speak about the past adventures. How we laughed at Nibs when got chased by the wolves. At Slightly for when he got captured by the Natives. The bouncing of stories sparked something. Peter's face perked up. He smiled wildly.
“I know what I want! Have you ever wondered about what happens outside this place? I want to know about these stories that happen far, far away. Tootles, take care of everyone while I'm gone. I'll be back by sunrise.”
I inquired him, requesting that he please think about what he is doing. He has never left Neverland. The worry and frustration tossed my stomach in a whirlpool of negative feelings.
“Peter! What are you talking about? Leave Neverland? What if you can't make it back?”
Peter smiled whole heartily. He placed his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with his courageous, joyful eyes,
“I know what I'm doing. I'm going to find adventure on the outside. I'll always know where Neverland is. This place is home. I'll be back, I promise.”
I was left speechless. He was our leader; we trusted him with our lives. No one would dare question Peter. He wasn't scared of fear, monsters, or death. It seems he would find great adventure in death. And he flew off. The clash of black and blue in the sky called for him. The stars burning bright. No clouds. Just stars and the moon. Peter was no more than a speck till I last saw him.

The red morning flames shined into my eyes, to which it woke me. But what woke me more was the sound of the Lost Boys yelling in excitement. I rubbed my half-opened eyes and peered out of my hut. The Lost Boys surrounded Peter in what appeared to be a frenzy of questions and demands. From the center of the circle, Peter looked up and saw me.
“Tootles! Come down here! I have great stories to tell!,” he called out.
I approached the peaceful riot. Nibs, the Twins, Slightly, and Cubby all with teeth-baring smiles spoke at once to tell me Peter had some stories to tell. I gazed back at Peter. He nodded thrice with enthusiasm. I began to open my mouth but Slightly formed his words first.
“Come on Peter! Tell us the story again!”
“Alright, alright, Boys. Everyone sit down. This is the story of Beauty and the Beast!”
Peter began telling us of a beautiful young lady who held prisoner by an ugly prince. The prince was ugly because he was cursed by witch that made his ugliness show on the outside. I looked around and listened to the story, but also noticed the Lost Boys' faces. The concentration. So focused and accurately listening to Peter talk. This is what is must be like to be a family.
Peter would fly out in the middle of the night, come back at sunrise, and tell us the stories he's heard. I became curious about where he was hearing these stories from. So I raised my hand and asked when all of us were gathered in a circle.
“Peter, where do you hear these stories from?”
“Well,” he said puzzled, “some lady called 'Mother.' “
“What's a mother?” asked Cubby.
Peter's shoulders slumped down, eyes shifted left to right slowly. “A mother is some lady who tucks you in at night, brings you warm milk, and tells you stories so you can go to sleep.”
All at once, we were struck in awe. The heads turned to face one another, eager. Together in one loud yell, we demanded, “We need a mother!”
And thus, began the events of Peter finding a mother for us. We were lonely, sad, and a bit pathetic. But with a mother, we would be complete. Every night Peter would seek us someone to become our mother. A companion to aid and tell us stories. And each night would tell us stories about Princesses, monsters, and magic. But we never satisfied, mainly because he would tell us the same story we've already heard. He peeked in every closed window, and went into every open one. I hope we find a mother soon, we could use her now.