The words in my head were far more potent than the ones I forced past my lips. This place had taken my final lifeline away. And the Nixies had known. I couldn’t trust my thoughts. I couldn’t trust myself at all.
“But what if,” I murmured, forcing myself to stumble over the rocking terrain, “they aren’t your thoughts. What if something else is in your head, and it’s not you.”
“On the contrary,” the collection of voices I faintly remembered from the last temple brushed past my ear like a soft breeze. They collected into a glowing form, then they took my shape. “I am you.”
The temple beast took a deep breath, and wind howled through the expanding walls.
“These thoughts are bred from your mind. At one point or another, they’ve belonged to you. Aren’t they pitiful? And aren’t you?” The glowing reflection sneered and looked away like I disgusted her. And didn’t I? Myself, I mean. Didn’t I disgust myself?
According to the sirens, I was some great piece in a bigger plan, but I couldn’t even find it in myself to embrace the idea of that.
“How do you expect to believe in yourself when no one else does? Your oldest friend,” my reflection winced and looked truly pained, “Whisper…she didn’t even believe in you enough to fly. And Bay? He sent a pixie to babysit you the second you were separated.”
The walls closed in, tighter than they were before. I could hardly breathe.
Was Skye still here, just invisible? Was he watching me crumble? Was he regretting believing in me to save him and Bay and Whisper?
Picturing his frustration frustrated me, and my fists clenched. “I said, shut up!”
“Pathetic.”
“That isn’t shutting up.” I gritted my teeth and glared at myself. She looked more like me now. Orange bled into her hair, and brown swirled in her eyes. Her despondent eyes. Another monstrous inhale. Another whip of air. My hair flew before my face, and I realized that hers was a dirtier shade. Her eyes were a duller mud.
She was every mediocre idea I had of myself. No gold touched her irises because I didn’t believe I was special like that. Her hair was thin and bland because I didn’t believe I had any right to stand out, to look even a fraction like Peter. Unwanted, she slouched.
I hated her.
The walls constricted further, but only I seemed to notice.
“Might as well end up swallowed here,” I spat. My other looked at me, and I narrowed my eyes at her. “Is that it? I thought it. I said it. But I don’t believe it. I can’t . My friends need me.”
“Since when have our friends ever needed us?”
“No,” I growled, and the creature froze, the mossy walls still for the moment. “My friends. The Nixie said they would need me, so I’m not going to let this be where my adventure ends.”
“Must you always rely on someone else?”
I unfolded my arms and took a step toward her. “So what if I rely on others?”
“It’s pathetic.”
“No, it’s not.” Those words resonated in my heart, resounded in my head, and I felt them swell in my chest. “It’s strength. The ability to believe in others isn’t easy. It’s so much safer to build walls and stay inside them. I may be wrong about someone. I may trust something that I shouldn’t. I’ve done that countless times since coming to Neverland. When you rely on someone, you allow them access to your foundation. They may rip the ground out from under you.” I thought of Bay, Hook’s son. “They may not be who you thought they were at all.”
“It’s stupid then,” she hissed.
I smirked. “Yeah? So?”
She didn’t miss a beat. “You’re an idiot.”
Scoffing, I lifted my chin and said, “I prefer ‘pretty loyal little asshole.’”
The form’s features broke, shattering my likeness and morphing into something else. “Can you do nothing on your own?” it shrieked. “Can you not even find your own words to say?”
The fleshy walls snapped to life, roiling, and the ground beneath my feet jerked with them. I lost my footing and fell. My stomach lurched. Air whipped against my face as I plummeted into a pit of darkness. Untouched by whatever gravity yanked me, the form remained standing before me, unmoved, a howling wraith of a creature.
I grasped at thin air, finding nothing to hold onto. There was nothing. All around us, pitch black, and yet I could see myself and the figure clearly. None of this was real. But again, it was magic. And magic could kill.
“No one is here to save you!” the figure screamed, a harsh wind scratching through its throat.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the jumping feeling in my stomach would vanish if I blocked the sight. It didn’t. It continued to accelerate, leaving my gut behind. If only Skye were here. I could fly if he were here.
I can fly even if he isn’t.
The thought came unbidden, and I wondered if it was me or some force in this place. Who here would encourage me when so far everything had tried to break me down? I swallowed, but a thought hit me.
Even if we were separated, I wasn’t in here alone. I was never alone. If I was going to believe in Skye, in Whisper, in Bay, in everyone, then maybe I should start listening to what they had to say.
Whisper said I could save the world.
Skye said I could create tornados.
Bay said he loved me.
I swallowed, tears burning in my eyes and dashing away in the torrent of wind as I fell. “You’re wrong!” I yelled. “Everyone is here to save me. Everyone I’ve believed in, relied on, trusted, they live in me. Maybe I’m not strong enough to believe in myself effortlessly like Whisper and Bay can. Maybe I have to find a convoluted way to do it. But maybe, just maybe, that’s okay.” I flattened myself against the wind, slowing my descent. “This is who I am.” I threw out one arm. “And I am loved.” I threw out the other. “And I am enough.”
My body became what it was fighting against. Lighter than air. No dust on my skin. I flew. It may have been a magic-induced dream, but I decided not to believe that thought. This was within me. It was natural, like flying always had been. It was real. Something powerful skated beneath my skin, making me aware of every breeze, every breath. The blackness surrounding me and the form before me weren’t real at all.
Air was. It was everywhere. And I felt it in every empty space. Exhaling, I caught sensations of solid walls, chambers, long halls. Inhaling, I recognized a gentle breath nearby. Skye hadn’t gone anywhere after all.
