I was sitting in my hotel room minding my own business Чтение a book when all of a sudden the glass window doors flew open. The постель, кровати room was dimly lit and the sun had completely gone down leaving no sunlight to light the room.
I fell off my постель, кровати leaving my постель, кровати in between me and the window. I would have gotten up to shut the window doors but that was before a figure entered the opening.
There was enough of a shadow cast over the body that Ты couldn't make out any features. But I could tell that it was a man. He stood with a sturdy pose his legs locked in place, his arms on his hips, his head held high with no fear.
He hopped down off the сиденье, место, сиденья that was placed in front of the window and onto the old carpeted floor. His pose loosened as his feet hit the ground, quite silently considering how old the house was.
He slowly walked around the room. I stayed kneeled at the side of the bed, my eyes peering over the unmade sheets. I watched him pick things up and study them then just drop them back into place.
"And what daughter are you?" He asked. My eyes widened, he knew I was there the entire time. But I made no noise I didn't make one Переместить and yet he was talking to me as if we had been in a conversation since he burst threw my hotel windows.
"I'm sorry, daughter of who?" He spun on his heels, his медведь feeted heels, facing right at me. I stood straight up as straight as I could. He took a few steps towards me.
"What generation of her granddaughters are you?" He asked again, slowly as if I was a complete idiot missing the conversation.
I had a total stranger burst into my hotel room, not by the door but by the секунда story window. Not only that he was completely mad. I decide the only way I was going to make it out alive with out him killing me in some psychopathic maniac way was to try to play along.
"What would my grandmother," I shook my head and changed the word. "great-grandmothers name be." He looked at me a bit confused as he placed his hands on his hips again just like when he had barged in. "Wendy"
"Okay and what is your name?" His hands that laid on his hips slid off to his sides. "Your grandmother hasn't told Ты about me? My name's Peter Pan."
I shook my head, as a child Peter Pan was my Избранное story. My mother read a couple chapters a night and when she finished the book she would read it over again. In fact the reason I chose this small not so 21st century comfort hotel was because this was the house that J.M. Berrie based Wendy and her two brothers house on.
So this kid well not so much a kid as maybe a eighteen или nineteen год old things that he's Peter Pan a childhood fairy tale character.
"So now that I have explained myself to you, what granddaughter are Ты of Wendy's?" I shook my head. "I'm not related to Wendy." He looked as if he didn't believe me. "Then what are Ты doing in her house." His voice was getting angry and I was becoming a bit scared.
"Peter, this house is no longer owned by Wendys family, it hasn't been for years. It's ow a hotel." He looked at me odd. "How many years?" "Its been a few decades."
His strong featured face turned turned softly into a heartbroken disappointment. He slowly sank to the floor. His eyebrows pushed together. My body loosened up and moved very slowly to his sunken body. I sat down on my legs in front of him.
Softly I asked, "If your Peter Pan, why aren't Ты a boy? Ты don't look quite like a man but Ты certainly don't look like a boy." His teary eyed face looked up at me. "You've heard my story?" I raised my eyebrow quickly then let it drop. "Your story is quite famous." He smiled to himself. "Wendy was truly an amazing story teller." I shook my head and agreed.
He took a deep breath composed him self and sat up straight. "I am not a boy because of Wendy. If Ты know my story then Ты know that I did not come and stay with Wendy and the Остаться в живых boys but went back to Neverland." he paused and waited for my response in which I smiled and nodded.
"I'm not quite sure how long it had been since I left Wendy and the Остаться в живых boys but Wendy was not a child when I came back to hear еще of her stories. I'm not quite sure why I chose to stay but I did and she took care of me. Years went by and I started to grow up; one evening I was looking out that window." He pointed to the still open windows. "and I saw the star, big and bright and Neverland came flooding back into my mind." he pause and waited a bit to continue.
"So that night I went threw my little chest I had under my постель, кровати and I found pixie dust. It was quite easy to remember how to fly." I smiled. "A little faith and pixie dust." I сказал(-а) with a little smile remembering my mother saying it to me. "I got up in the air and just went straight вперед out the window and towards the star." He looked away from me and at the ground."I guess it's been quite a lot of years since I came back the last time I came it was Wendy's granddaughter who stayed in this room."
I was pulled into his story so much that if felt 100% true, I didn't know what to say what to respond that story.
"That part of Ты story has never been told." He stood up fast and into his pose. "Do Ты tell stories at all." I stood up confident and smiling. "I do, just I put them on many layers of paper." He gave me an are-you-serious look. "Like a book?" my lips pressed together as I nodded.
"I write teenage novels and children's Книги and don't give me that look, have Ты ever read a book или even picked one up?" He shook his head a little embarrassed. "Wendy always read them to me, but yes I would pick Книги up all the time, who do Ты think got the book off the bookshelf?"
I giggled s bit at his comment. I looked up at him and his face in a matter of секунды went from serious to creeply excited. "Come to Neverland with me." My smile faded and I grew terrified he was loosing his mind again. What do I say?
I started backing up towards the door as he ran towards the open window. I stopped as I realized he wasn't going to stop then he flew out of the window and went down. I ran for the window and as I reached it and peered down he zoomed up and back into the room and spun around in the air.
I must be sleeping, that was it, I fell asleep while reading.
I stood completely still as he lowered himself to the ground in front if me. He walked around me and stood on the window frame. He just started at me with a little smile on his lips. He held out his hand and сказал(-а) "Lets start a new generation of Wendy's, come to Neverland." I believed him every word. I took his hand and in a fast movement I was in the sky slowly watching the house shrink behind us.
I fell off my постель, кровати leaving my постель, кровати in between me and the window. I would have gotten up to shut the window doors but that was before a figure entered the opening.
There was enough of a shadow cast over the body that Ты couldn't make out any features. But I could tell that it was a man. He stood with a sturdy pose his legs locked in place, his arms on his hips, his head held high with no fear.
He hopped down off the сиденье, место, сиденья that was placed in front of the window and onto the old carpeted floor. His pose loosened as his feet hit the ground, quite silently considering how old the house was.
He slowly walked around the room. I stayed kneeled at the side of the bed, my eyes peering over the unmade sheets. I watched him pick things up and study them then just drop them back into place.
"And what daughter are you?" He asked. My eyes widened, he knew I was there the entire time. But I made no noise I didn't make one Переместить and yet he was talking to me as if we had been in a conversation since he burst threw my hotel windows.
"I'm sorry, daughter of who?" He spun on his heels, his медведь feeted heels, facing right at me. I stood straight up as straight as I could. He took a few steps towards me.
"What generation of her granddaughters are you?" He asked again, slowly as if I was a complete idiot missing the conversation.
I had a total stranger burst into my hotel room, not by the door but by the секунда story window. Not only that he was completely mad. I decide the only way I was going to make it out alive with out him killing me in some psychopathic maniac way was to try to play along.
"What would my grandmother," I shook my head and changed the word. "great-grandmothers name be." He looked at me a bit confused as he placed his hands on his hips again just like when he had barged in. "Wendy"
"Okay and what is your name?" His hands that laid on his hips slid off to his sides. "Your grandmother hasn't told Ты about me? My name's Peter Pan."
I shook my head, as a child Peter Pan was my Избранное story. My mother read a couple chapters a night and when she finished the book she would read it over again. In fact the reason I chose this small not so 21st century comfort hotel was because this was the house that J.M. Berrie based Wendy and her two brothers house on.
So this kid well not so much a kid as maybe a eighteen или nineteen год old things that he's Peter Pan a childhood fairy tale character.
"So now that I have explained myself to you, what granddaughter are Ты of Wendy's?" I shook my head. "I'm not related to Wendy." He looked as if he didn't believe me. "Then what are Ты doing in her house." His voice was getting angry and I was becoming a bit scared.
"Peter, this house is no longer owned by Wendys family, it hasn't been for years. It's ow a hotel." He looked at me odd. "How many years?" "Its been a few decades."
His strong featured face turned turned softly into a heartbroken disappointment. He slowly sank to the floor. His eyebrows pushed together. My body loosened up and moved very slowly to his sunken body. I sat down on my legs in front of him.
Softly I asked, "If your Peter Pan, why aren't Ты a boy? Ты don't look quite like a man but Ты certainly don't look like a boy." His teary eyed face looked up at me. "You've heard my story?" I raised my eyebrow quickly then let it drop. "Your story is quite famous." He smiled to himself. "Wendy was truly an amazing story teller." I shook my head and agreed.
He took a deep breath composed him self and sat up straight. "I am not a boy because of Wendy. If Ты know my story then Ты know that I did not come and stay with Wendy and the Остаться в живых boys but went back to Neverland." he paused and waited for my response in which I smiled and nodded.
"I'm not quite sure how long it had been since I left Wendy and the Остаться в живых boys but Wendy was not a child when I came back to hear еще of her stories. I'm not quite sure why I chose to stay but I did and she took care of me. Years went by and I started to grow up; one evening I was looking out that window." He pointed to the still open windows. "and I saw the star, big and bright and Neverland came flooding back into my mind." he pause and waited a bit to continue.
"So that night I went threw my little chest I had under my постель, кровати and I found pixie dust. It was quite easy to remember how to fly." I smiled. "A little faith and pixie dust." I сказал(-а) with a little smile remembering my mother saying it to me. "I got up in the air and just went straight вперед out the window and towards the star." He looked away from me and at the ground."I guess it's been quite a lot of years since I came back the last time I came it was Wendy's granddaughter who stayed in this room."
I was pulled into his story so much that if felt 100% true, I didn't know what to say what to respond that story.
"That part of Ты story has never been told." He stood up fast and into his pose. "Do Ты tell stories at all." I stood up confident and smiling. "I do, just I put them on many layers of paper." He gave me an are-you-serious look. "Like a book?" my lips pressed together as I nodded.
"I write teenage novels and children's Книги and don't give me that look, have Ты ever read a book или even picked one up?" He shook his head a little embarrassed. "Wendy always read them to me, but yes I would pick Книги up all the time, who do Ты think got the book off the bookshelf?"
I giggled s bit at his comment. I looked up at him and his face in a matter of секунды went from serious to creeply excited. "Come to Neverland with me." My smile faded and I grew terrified he was loosing his mind again. What do I say?
I started backing up towards the door as he ran towards the open window. I stopped as I realized he wasn't going to stop then he flew out of the window and went down. I ran for the window and as I reached it and peered down he zoomed up and back into the room and spun around in the air.
I must be sleeping, that was it, I fell asleep while reading.
I stood completely still as he lowered himself to the ground in front if me. He walked around me and stood on the window frame. He just started at me with a little smile on his lips. He held out his hand and сказал(-а) "Lets start a new generation of Wendy's, come to Neverland." I believed him every word. I took his hand and in a fast movement I was in the sky slowly watching the house shrink behind us.
Is it possible to fall in Любовь with someone you’ve never met
Your only knowledge stemming from information you’ve seen или read
Before I knew of his existence I would have stated no
Yet the first time I saw him my сердце begged to never let go
It isn’t rational
или logical
Though Любовь rarely is
I can’t make my сердце stop wishing that I held his
And I know it's stupid and silly to believe
In some kind of fairy tale
The perfect prince for me
But every time I see that smile
I can’t help but feel
That one день we could share
A Любовь that is real
Your only knowledge stemming from information you’ve seen или read
Before I knew of his existence I would have stated no
Yet the first time I saw him my сердце begged to never let go
It isn’t rational
или logical
Though Любовь rarely is
I can’t make my сердце stop wishing that I held his
And I know it's stupid and silly to believe
In some kind of fairy tale
The perfect prince for me
But every time I see that smile
I can’t help but feel
That one день we could share
A Любовь that is real
ON STORMY CLOUDS
I’VE SEEN HIM SIT
THIS DARK Энджел FAIR
WITH FOLDED AND SHIMMERING
GOSSAMER WINGS
AND MOON BEAMS IN HIS HAIR
WITH BURNING EYES
TO EARTH HE SLIDES
SEEKING TO FEEL THE GROUND
THEN SPREAD HIS
RAVEN FEATHERED WINGS
CASTING HIS MAGICK SHADOW ‘ROUND
THIS Ангелы TOUCH
IS A COMFORTS SONG
SOFT AS A VELVET CLOAK
AND WHEN HE REACHES
TO RIGHT THE WRONG
HIS WORDS ARE FEELINGS SPOKE
ON HOOF AND WING, I WATCHED HIM SAIL
MY DARK Энджел FAIR
TO SOME ARCANE ABODE
WE KNOW NOT WHERE
TILL HIS Далее ASSIGNMENT
AND THE FUTURE HAS BEEN FORETOLD
FOR THE LAST FLIGHT
THIS DARK Энджел TAKES
IS A PIED-PIPERS GATHERING
FOR ALL THE SOULS HE’S TOUCHED
LISTENING TO THE SHADOWY
SONGS THEY’LL NOW SING
I’VE SEEN HIM SIT
THIS DARK Энджел FAIR
WITH FOLDED AND SHIMMERING
GOSSAMER WINGS
AND MOON BEAMS IN HIS HAIR
WITH BURNING EYES
TO EARTH HE SLIDES
SEEKING TO FEEL THE GROUND
THEN SPREAD HIS
RAVEN FEATHERED WINGS
CASTING HIS MAGICK SHADOW ‘ROUND
THIS Ангелы TOUCH
IS A COMFORTS SONG
SOFT AS A VELVET CLOAK
AND WHEN HE REACHES
TO RIGHT THE WRONG
HIS WORDS ARE FEELINGS SPOKE
ON HOOF AND WING, I WATCHED HIM SAIL
MY DARK Энджел FAIR
TO SOME ARCANE ABODE
WE KNOW NOT WHERE
TILL HIS Далее ASSIGNMENT
AND THE FUTURE HAS BEEN FORETOLD
FOR THE LAST FLIGHT
THIS DARK Энджел TAKES
IS A PIED-PIPERS GATHERING
FOR ALL THE SOULS HE’S TOUCHED
LISTENING TO THE SHADOWY
SONGS THEY’LL NOW SING
19 December
It's been almost a год since Freak died. For a while, people always used to say to me, "I'm sorry." I hated that. I yelled at them, "Feel sorry for Freak! I'm still alive!"
They shouldn't feel sorry for me. Freak taught me what it meant to walk tall. He tought me that remembering is only an invention of the mind, and if Ты try hard enough, Ты can remember anything. I try to remember everything Freak told me; and sometimes, it works. Then it slips away.
For a while after Freak died, I went back to being the critter hiding out in Down Under. Then one day, it hit me, and hard. If I had died, I wouldn't want Freak to do what I was doing. I would want him to continue Freak The Mighty.
And that made all the difference.
I try to make Freak proud; maybe I'm even succeeding. I just know that Freak changed the way I saw things, and I owe him that much; to keep Freak The Mighty alive.
-Max-
It's been almost a год since Freak died. For a while, people always used to say to me, "I'm sorry." I hated that. I yelled at them, "Feel sorry for Freak! I'm still alive!"
They shouldn't feel sorry for me. Freak taught me what it meant to walk tall. He tought me that remembering is only an invention of the mind, and if Ты try hard enough, Ты can remember anything. I try to remember everything Freak told me; and sometimes, it works. Then it slips away.
For a while after Freak died, I went back to being the critter hiding out in Down Under. Then one day, it hit me, and hard. If I had died, I wouldn't want Freak to do what I was doing. I would want him to continue Freak The Mighty.
And that made all the difference.
I try to make Freak proud; maybe I'm even succeeding. I just know that Freak changed the way I saw things, and I owe him that much; to keep Freak The Mighty alive.
-Max-