Hey there! I have a few abandoned until further noticed projects going on due to exams but I recently watched 'Neverland 2011' and thought 'Y'know what? This'd make a good fan fiction!' so my brain decided to work like clockwork and come up with this! Sorry if you haven't seen Neverland, though the characters are basically the same as Peter Pan, the concept may be harder to understand. Also, in this story there will be no mentions of Wendy, sorry Wendy lovers but I hated her so much, every Peter Pan related thing I ever saw I just despised her... perhaps it's because I adore TinkerBell so much; *sigh* oh well, on to my story! Enjoy! x
"Strawberries; get your fresh juicy strawberries here, only two quid a pack!"
A fat old woman sang out the words in a hearty howl, her large arms lifting, guiding a pack of strawberries with them as if to show off her prize. A few bystanders gathered, picking pieces of fruit from the stall standing tall just between the local post office and a Boots convenience store, no place more perfect to sell her confectionary goods.
People handed her their spare change as she exchanged them for fruit, slamming the cash into her register as she went, ticking people off mentally within her mind.
It simply took one turn of the head; one wandering eye back to her prize jewels for a small fingerless glove clad hand to reach into the pile of precariously stacked granny apples. Four delicate fingers and a thumb wrapped around a juicy red one, snatching it away in the blink of an eye and into the perpetrator's jacket pocket. The chubby woman turned back from her register, taking a vine full of grapes and singing yet another round of prices as she stood tall before her fruits, not even noticing the missing stock.
Besides, who was going to miss one apple anyway? It's not like fruit stalls were overly popular, no one was going to proclaim an angered darn towards not receiving an apple when they could buy one, most likely cheaper at the Tesco down the road. The perpetrator smiled her special smile, a small toothy grin as she snatched the apple out of her pocket, biting into the delicious treat and savouring every bite.
Once she had bitten down to the core, the child threw it carelessly into a bin by the bus stop, her eyes wandering in silent wonder as she mapped out her next plans of action. Being homeless had its ups and downs, this wasn't the 1900's anymore, pick pockets were at their bare minimum. No, instead she had to do it the modern way, stealing fruit from stalls and ripping the barcodes off of goods in small corner shops. It was how she had to survive; and how she had been surviving for the past five years, ever since she was eight years old. Blimey... she wiped a hand through her tangled blonde locks, her fingers tracing to her scalp as she found her beige knit cap, that made her about thirteen... she grinned, shoving her fists into her pockets. Lucky number, she thought.
Luck was what she needed the most. Living under bridges and soup kitchens was a painful life, especially for a child. Money did seem to come easier when it came to begging, but she'd almost given up the sport. There was always someone else on the streets who found themselves more deserving than her, forcing her to give up the money or else. She didn't know exactly what the or else was, but she did know that people on the streets were more likely to be carrying a weapon of some sort, even if that weapon was just a butter knife.
But her mind wandered... carrying her gaze further and further along the winding roads of greater London, following the paths of business men and children alike. All with a home. All with a purpose.
She sighed, rolling her shoulders as she carried on her walk.
"Jasmine, darling, stop running off!"
The child stepped out of the way as a worried mother figure swept through the scene, desperately attempting to grab hold of her toddler.
Billie get back 'ere you worthless piece of...
She shuddered, keeping her hold on reality tighter than she thought ever possible. There were reasons for her homelessness. A reckless family, an abusive mother... a father who hadn't been seen in years. Billie Phelps had been her name once... now it was just Billie. Plain and simple.
She watched the scene of mother and daughter casually, the child, Jasmine pulling away from her tiresome mother. "No mamma, I wanna see the magic orb!"
Billie couldn't help but raise a brow to that prospect. A magic orb? In London? Was some sort of magic convention coming through town?
"Later Honey, the museum will be packed, let's get some lunch first."
Billie watched as the woman guided her child away from the direction of the natural history museum, obviously relieved to have caught a break from the fuss of a certain magic orb. Billie grinned.
The museum wasn't half a mile up the road, and children got in for next to nothing. Billie dug into her pockets. She'd made a couple tenners from the raid she'd made at the market registers. Some people selling old clothes and junk just kept their money lying around... Billie's fingers fisted around the cash. She was sure to have something left over for a burger, making a few quid off the kind hearted with a bit of dirt on your face was easy pickings...
That was it then, Billie resolved. She'd catch a glimpse at the museum, some free heating from the winter winds and a few priceless artefacts to mess around with.
She beamed, beginning to jog down the street. This was what freedom was made for.
Once paying her fees in the surprisingly short line, Billie waltzed in, her small backpack tightly secured around her right shoulder. The child glanced from one side of the hall to the other; she couldn't remember this place being so big. Sure, she'd snuck in before to sleep in the warm before being kicked out, but she'd never properly looked around. And now that she was here...
She felt her mouth hang open as she watched families walk down the halls, eager to see some history. So Billie followed. Dinosaur bones... cars through history... it wasn't surprising that they had it all, even the boring stuff. Billie grinned slightly, the bones of a certain pterodactyl proudly hanging above her. The way the bird's name was spelt always gave her the shivers. It seemed like a mystical bird... just like the orb she was supposed to find.
She'd seen a poster for it on the outside, a pretty new, very special piece found only half a year ago by a bunch of archaeologists, who else?
Billie followed the larger crowds, the ones who seemed the most enthusiastic about the orb. Soon enough, with a lot of patience and a few different groups to follow, Billie finally came across a large red velvet rope and behind that rope...
Billie groaned. Had she really just fished out most of her savings to see a box?
"Interested in the orb I see, aren't we all?"
Billie was caught off guard by an elderly man suddenly by her side. His face creased as he gave her a half decent smile, holding out his hand for her to shake. Billie considered the gesture before doing so in the most polite manner she could muster. "Who are you?" Billie asked, her eyes instantly widening, "if that's not too..."
"No bother," the man insisted, holding his hand to cut her off, "my name is Jasper, my son was on the archaeologist dig that sent this beautiful orb into light," the man frowned, looking upon the box, "of course it would seem more interesting were it open for the eyes to behold."
Billie rose a brow, "why can't we see it?"
The man grinned, "ah, a fascinating tale. The orb was found here in London, a street that had been built over countless times. It was found in the sewage lines, sitting there, stuck between mounds of concrete and filth," the man shivered but progressed nonetheless, "once the orb had been unmasked, there was mass hysteria in the tabloids, stories of possessions, demons and other nonsense," the man paused, "unless you believe in that thing."
Billie frowned and shook her head,
The man smiled, "I digress," he looked up to the closed box once more, "they keep the box closed due to complaints of some of the people that come in. Apparently, children have been quite spooked, saying they saw objects in it... stars and planets, other solar systems. I say they were on a sugar high but due to law..."
"...you keep it closed," Billie finished with a sigh, "too bad, it sounds like fun."
The man grinned, "say, if you stick around a while, perhaps you'd manage a quick peek, I know I've seen other kids do it." The man winked at her and began to turn away before he double took at the attire Billie had on... scruffy clothes, a dirty face... not to mention dirt encrusted fingernails. The man loosened his blue scarf from around his neck, removing it and placing it in his right hand before slipping his left into his suit pocket and pulling out a real life twenty pound note.
He held out the item of clothing and cash under Billie's nose. Billie felt her lungs tighten as she held her breath hastily. Was this man for real?
"I'm sorry for your misfortunes and hope a small token will make your life a little easier." Billie nodded rigidly before taking the scarf and money, checking it against the light of the museum to test it for validity. Sure enough, the queen's head shone through as clear as day. Billie cleared her throat and smiled, "Thank you." She said genuinely.
The man smiled, "the pleasure is all mine," he beamed, ruffling the child's hair before turning around and walking away.
Billie stared after him, a small smile written across her lips. A kind old man had given her a lifeline, money enough to buy herself enough food for a few days at least. She stood there a moment longer, perplexed, until she saw other children rush past her and down the hall, stopping and staring at the orb for a few moments.
"Complete waste, they make it sound all wicked but it's just a stupid box," a young boy announced to what looked like his younger sister as they darted past the artefact. Billie watched them leave, then looked around herself once more. No one was there...
Billie thought back to what the man had said, allowing her silver-blue eyes to travel back to the box. It had fine polished oak wood and painted golden hinges. The box wasn't locked... all it needed was to be unfastened.
Billie looked from her left to her right, no guards... no people... just her, and the box.
Billie shrugged, standing on her tip toes as she reached over the velvet rope, "Jasper did say that kids do it all the time," she reasoned with her guilty conscience as her finger threaded around the small metal fastener attached to the box.
Just one flick...
Billie almost lost her balance as the lid of the box lifted on its own, revealing a scarlet velvet cushioning and the beautiful glass orb...
Billie's eyes widened... it looked just like the ones that fortune tellers used at the circus. Like the one she had seen when she was five.
A greater life will come to you in your not-so distant future my child, a world for you like no other...
Billie couldn't help but allow a sudden anger burst through her chest. That fortune teller was a fake and a liar. Nothing but poverty and loneliness had come her way. Dodging the police in fear of being taken into child services... she didn't want a family. She couldn't trust adults any more. They were all evil to her in her eyes.
To ease her sorrows, Billie subconsciously leant further on her toes, her small fingers reaching out to brush against the orb. She felt her nails tap against its surface and felt a sliver of pleasure envelope around her skin... as if the orb was beckoning her to become closer with it.
Billie couldn't look away; as soon as her nails clicked against the surface, the orb began to shine such a magnificent yellow, reflecting in her mesmerized gaze as images spun through the orb. Planets and stars she did not recognize flew into her view, orbiting through the orb like time and space trapped in a single glass object.
"It's real..." Billie choked out, feeling tears sting at her line of vision, "a real life fortune orb..."
Her fingers grabbed out greedily for it, stroking the glass with a childish fantasy. But alas... her fingers were too tough on the glass, it soon lost its place on the velvet and began to roll unstably from its cushions...
"NO!" Billie yelled, reaching out for it as the orb fell from the box, bouncing against the marble of the floors and for some miraculous reason... rolling to her converse clad feet without a single scratch.
Billie blinked in surprise, "well that tares it..." Billie gasped, reaching down for it, "you really are magic..."
But Billie didn't finish her sentence, for it was that point that the orb chose Billie for its own. The miracle of space reached out from the confides of its glass prison and stretched around the child. Billie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand wildly on end as the world began to spin around her. A yellow light engulfed her vision as the sound of birdsong and water fall took her hearing. Billie fell to her knees, wondering whether to scream or laugh as the orb took its newest victim, grabbing the child in full force as she too was sucked into its glass walls. Forever captive. Forever young.
Not seconds later did three security guards fill the scene, expecting to see children attempting to steal the museum's most popular piece. Instead they found nothing but a detached orb, still against the marble floors. The guards simply shrugged, questioning their own sanity as they placed the orb back into the box and fastening the hooks. Never to be disturbed again.
First chapter = complete, I hoped you enjoyed it, next time see Billie cope with her new world... NEVERLAND! :3 Yay! Please review! x