Peter Pan.

"Jack, aren't you excited?" Mom asks.

Jeez, look who's talking. The entire car ride, all she's been doing is typing away on her phone and moping about how hot it is.

"You know for a fact how excited I am, Mom." I defend myself. "I've been wanting to meet Peter for years."

I don't care if I sounded childish, or stupid. Ever since I'd first seen Peter Pan, I'd been completely obsessed. Not just with Peter, but with the whole concept of never growing up. It just seemed like paradise to me. I wanted to be sixteen forever.

"Ooooh! Does Jacky have a little crush?" My sister May giggles from the left of me.

"Oh, grow up," I say, inwardly cringing at the irony of my own statement. "What are we, four?"

"No, we're five." She scrunches up her nose and sticks her tongue out. Right as I'm about to raise my hand up and shove her tongue back in that stupid little mouth of hers, Joe speaks up.

"Would you two just shut up?" He groans, shaking his head. "I have a headache."

"Do you want some Tylenol, sweetheart?" Mom asks, pulling her massive purse onto her lap. "I've got loads. I just knew something like this would happen. Just knew it!"

"Joyce, calm yourself." Dad tells her. "Things happen unexpectedly. Just get the boy some medication. Are you alright, Joe?"

"I'll be okay," He says. "I just don't know why I had to come on this stupid trip."

"Oh shush up, Joe. This is a family activity." Mom says, letting out a heavy sigh. She made it seem like having children was one of the biggest troubles in the world. Like it was worse than poverty, or domestic abuse. I'm not sure what I'd rather have. Physical abuse or mental. Because I'm pretty sure the things she's said to me hurt way more than any punch she could throw.

"Peter Pan isn't even fucking real! Why do all of us have to suffer just because Jack is a little bitch?" Joe says, clenching his jaw. He turns to me. "When are you gonna learn to grow the fuck up?!"

I bit down on my lip as hard as I could, hoping I'd draw blood. Why would he say that to me? What was possessing him to treat me so unfairly? Joe and I had always been close. Always. I used to confide in him for everything. He was the one who convince Mom and Dad to take us here. Why was everything coming back to me? This was all my fault.

"Well, we're here now, so shut up." May says to him, looking over at me with a small smile after. "No one gives a shit about what you think, you dramatic prick." She tells him.

"May!" Mom says sharply, turning around to glare at May, and I. What the fuck did I do? "That is no way to talk to your brother!"

"Why does he get to treat Jack so poorly?" May asks, anger in her normally calm and beautiful voice. "He makes him feel like shit and neither of you seem to care!"

Dad stops the car. "Alright, let's just get this over with. The sooner we aren't cramped up in this car the better."

As we got out of the car, I distanced myself from the rest of them. I didn't need them to see me this way. Walking behind them about twenty feet, I feel the tears beginning to drip down my cheeks. Typical Jack Barakat. Beginning to sob as he was walking into the happiest place on earth.

•••

Now that we were here, the one place I had longed to go ever since I was younger, I still had that same old empty feeling. I felt like breaking down and sobbing at that very second. But I already did that once today.

"Mom, we're going to the bathroom, okay?" May says suddenly, gripping my hand tightly in hers, like I might float away or something.

"And you'll come right back?" Mom asks, looking up at us sternly over her glasses.

"Promise." May nods once in confirmation, and we're off before anyone can say anything else. After she's certain we're out of ear's reach, she pulls me even closer.

"We're not going to the bathroom." She says, a grin forming on her face.

"W-what? May, M-Mom said-"

"I knew what she said, I was standing right next to you, goofball." She says. "I'm going to have a smoke, and then we're going FantasyLand."

"F-FantasyLand? Mom a-and Dad are in AdventureLand, w-we can't b-be that far away." I say. My stupid post-panic-attack stutter hadn't gone away yet, and it was really beginning to get on my nerves.

"I know, but I think you'll like where we're going." She says with a wink.

"Do p-promises mean n-nothing to you?" I ask, rolling my eyes. She really didn't have any morals when it came to Mom. However, with Dad she was a little more trustworthy, and he was a little more lenient.

"Yes, as a matter-of-fact they do. I've kept every promise I've ever made to you, right?" She asks, raising her eyebrows.

"W-well yeah."

"Exactly." She says, squeezing my hand even tighter, not seeming to care about the sweat that was accumulating from our palms. "And I needed an excuse to get you away from Joe."

"J-Joe?" I ask, quickly decided that playing dumb would be best. Maybe if I didn't tell her that Joe was the reason I was crying, she wouldn't worry. The last thing I wanted was for May to worry about me.

"Jack, I know. Its okay." She says, turning back to give me a sympathetic smile.

Oh, no. No no no. I didn't want sympathy. I just wanted people to care about me, and from my perspective, May was the only person that did.

I glanced down to my scar-ridden arms. A shiver runs down my spine when the thought of the razor still in my arm hit me. The image was burned into my brain. Forever, I assumed. I felt a phantom pain on my arm. As though the blade was still pressed into me.

"This is Jack. He already knows who you are." May says, proudly. What she had to be proud of? I don't think I'll ever know.

I examined him. Big, beautiful caramel eyes. Very similar to the color of his hair. They commented each other perfectly. And that slender body in those clingy dark green tights had me reeling. He radiated confidence. Although, not in a jerky way. He was proud to be who he was. Happy with himself. I could help but feel just the slightest bit envious.

"You're m-my hero." I say shyly. All I can do was wave. I could barely breathe.This is all too much for me... I didn't know that Peter was so cute. My whole body is pressed together, probably as tight as it could ever get. My feet were touching, and I quickly looked down to see if I had managed to salvage my thigh gap, with all the food my parents had been forcing down my throat. Barely.

Peter's huge grin suddenly switches to a frown. My heart drops down into my stomach. Had I already done something wrong?

He steps off of his little ledge and over to me. Carefully, as if he was afraid I might break and shatter into a million little pieces at his feet, he takes my hands in his. Our forearms were facing the sky, displaying every single scar of mine perfectly, sunlight shining brightly on them. It was like a display case. And now I couldn't breathe.

He looked down at them, the frown still on his face. I expected a look of disgust, hate. Anything to show that he thought of me as a lesser human being.

"No, no! You have battle scars," He says quickly. "You must have fought off a lot of stinky pirates! You, prince, are MY hero." Then he bowed, and brought my left hand up, and kissed it.

He stood up straight, and pulled me into him, wrapping me in probably the tightest hug I'd ever had, and most likely ever get. "You're beautiful, please stop." He whispers.

"I-I...." I stammer out, not having the slightest clue what to reply to something like that.

"Jack," May says, shoving her phone back into her bag. "Mom and Dad are going crazy! We have to go." She gives me a sad smile, and reaches out for my hand.

I reluctantly pull one of my hands out of Peter's grasp, and into May's.

"I'm sorry," I say, as I looked up at him for the last time. My eyes are probably swelling up with tears, and it was more than likely I looked like a puppy that had been kicked too many times. But that's all I was anyway.

"Jack, I am so sorry, but we're in huge trouble." And with one swift pull, I tumbled out of my hero's arms, and into the arms of my older sister. She's pulling me away from him. No! As a matter of fact, we're running away, sprinting, and I just can't seem to take my eyes off of him.

"Goodbye, Jack!" He calls, waving at me sadly.

"Goodbye." I whisper, tears now rolling down my cheeks as I forced myself to turn away. But I could still feel his eyes on me. I ended up crying the rest of the day.

If I thought that was the last time I'd ever see him, I was dead wrong.