The burning sun of Texas rose into Michael's eyes as he awoke with a start, the tragic night still in his head.
His legs were still shaky and he hadn't had a very pleasant night either, he rubbed his eyes and yawned. Then suddenly, he felt a hand brush his shoulder and right that minute, rose to his feet.
“No father, I’m sorry,” Michael cried facing his back to the one he thought was his furious father.
“Hey Michael, it’s just me, look, I’m Max, your brother,” Max said as he tried comforting his brother by giving him a hug.
“You’re still upset about last night, aren't you?” Max asked his shaky brother.
Michael pulled away and burst into tears, “But it’s not my fault, all our childhood, father never let us played, let alone with other kids. Instead, he made us do hard work from a vey young age, what did we do to earn that?”
Michael’s black curly hair looked like dark silk dangling from his squared shaped face. His huge hazel eyes were still filled with tears until he brushed them off with his shaky hand.
“Forget it, nothings fear here, he just doesn't understand us, all I wanted to do was to play with the other kids. He hates this generation; he thinks we’ll turn out like the other kids who disrespect their parents, if we played with them, what’s wrong with him, not everyone’s bad in this generation, it’s your choice of what path you pick,” Michael said and stepped out of the door.
“Hey Michael, wait,” Max called out as Michael left.
Compared to his brother, Max was very different; where Michael had long, dark and curly hair, Max had short, blond and straight hair. He had tiny blue eyes, about the size of a button. There were two things they had common; one was that they both were very skinny and second was that they both had good understanding of each other. Max sat down on his bed next to Michael’s and sighed. Life wasn't fear.
Outside in their garden, Michael sat on a bench and looked at his watch; it was 8 am in the morning and no one in their house had woken up instead of him and Max. As he was looking at his watch, he caught sight of the scar that had been given to him last night for playing with other kids. Tears filled his eyes again. He wanted to share fantastical stories; he wanted to fly in the sky like Peter Pan….
He looked up at the morning sky and sighed, “Well, at least I’ll always be Peter Pan in my heart.”
Suddenly, the wind started to blow strongly, blowing Michael’s hair away. A puff of smoke entered the garden.
“Where is the smoke coming from?” Michael asked himself in a low voice, looking around the garden.
Was someone having a BBQ this early in this morning?
“You are not alone, Michael you are not alone, come with me, I’ll take you to my world.”
Michael jumped to his feet as he heard the strange voice; it was no one from his family because it was a voice he did not recognize.
He turned and his jaw dropped open because standing opposite him, was someone who was reaching his hand out to Michael and that someone was exactly looking like… looking like Peter Pan!......