(Part 11) Not so Peter Pan

I feel something stir deep inside me. I was angry, sad and hurt. I wanted to scream, cry, I wanted to hug my sister, but I also wanted to hurt her. How can he love her? Before Ela reaches me, I turn around and start running. My legs burn and my bones feel like they are about to snap. I don’t go back to the cottage. I return to the orphanage. Entering the building, a few girls greet me. „Hey Ela!“ they sound excited. I notice they are holding onto some kind of books and all of them are headed in the same direction. I follow them. Entering a room filled with chairs and tables, I take a seat and stare straight ahead at a tall middle-aged man standing in front of some kind of green wall. He takes a chalk pen and starts writing on the green wall. I sit there frozen, everyone around me is reading and copying whatever it is he put on that wall, but I cannot. A loud noise sounds and everyone packs their stuff and leaves. I stand up and head for the door until, „Ela, can I talk to you really quickly?“ the man asked in a tender tone. I turn around and give him a smile. „Weren’t you supposed to be at the market today?“ he asks yet another question I do not wish to answer. I try to think of a good response, but I fail. He lets out a short sigh „I understand“ he continues, with a smirk that makes my insides twist in agony. „You wanted to see me, or maybe you would like to hear another story… I suppose I have a bit of spare time.“ he gestures for me to take a seat in front of his big desk. He meets my eyes, I feel incredibly abominable and unsafe under his gaze and one good look deep into his dark chocolate eyes I feel it. I feel what Nona has been trying to teach me. The feeling that comes to us keepers, when you simply know who the next Nameless ought to be.

Not Peter Pan

Her beautiful chestnut, wavy hair sits perfectly across her wide chest. I have to make sure I am not drooling. She looks a bit different today, not by appearance… something about the way she looks at me, her big doe eyes begging for another story. I used to tell Elanour stories ever since she was a child. I remember when she turned six and was just introduced to this class. She loved stories. I had tried to get her alone with me again after some time but she kept finding excuses and now that she is finally sitting here like a very good girl, I think about the story I should tell her this time, after all she isn’t six anymore. „Have you ever heard of a boy, a man called Peter Pan?“ I ask, slowly making my way to the front of my desk, leaning on its edge. She shakes her head. „Well, Peter Pan was a boy that could fly, he lived in the place called ‚Neverland‘. One day he was flying over the city when he saw a gorgeous little girl. He flew over to her balcony and asked her to leave the windows open at night so he could come and visit her again. The beautiful girl listened and she left the windows open. When night came, he flew into her room. He hugged the girl. Her skin was so soft he needed to touch her all over. He asked the girl if she wanted to have fun with him. She said yes but she wasn’t allowed to leave her house.“ her gaze is fully focused on me as I continue, „So, Peter Pan took a bit of his magic dust and sprinkled it on the young girl. They flew away to ‚Neverland‘ to have all the fun they can.“ she sits there unmoving. I lean in closer and whisper into her ear „Can you keep a secret? I am Peter Pan. Leave your door open for me tonight, little bird, and I will save you.“