I wake up, startled by the noise of hustle and bustle outside of my room. I look around and begin to try and roll over, and then I notice I can’t move my arms. As I pull and tug I realize why I am restricted. Captain hook has caught me again. The vines keep my arms crossed across my chest and tied behind my back. There is no escaping my own embrace. I hear a light jingle and a small voice whisper, “you should have been more careful, Peter.” Its tinker bell. I can see her illuminated on my shoulder, casting long shadows across the room, that seem to twist and writhe on the walls. The memories rush back to me in a flash; the lost boys running away, Tink hiding herself in my tousled hair, the sinister laugh of Hook while he tied up my arms and used the thorn from that bush outside of my house to inject me with that poison; not the one that makes me sick but the one that makes me sleepy. That’s how he captures me, you know; he sticks my arm with that plant and I fall asleep. That’s when he ties me up and brings me here, and yes this happens often. I roll onto the floor and worm my way to the door. I can see under the crack and I watch as all the pirates run around in their white bedroom slippers. I must be on the boat. I can feel the waves push the boat one way and quickly reverse that act and tug it to the next. I feel like vomiting. Maybe he did stick me with the sick plant after all. I look up and watch the seconds tick off the clock above my head. I watch and watch and watch until one of them gets a little to exited at its escape and lands in my eye. It burns; these seconds are hot. I’m pretty sure it was 19 that hit me but I don’t really remember. As the number scorches its way through my cornea I begin to yell. I screech and thrash on the ground; all the while, Tinker bell is whispering in my ear, ‘you should have known better than that, Peter. It’s your fault if we die you know, this is all your fault. If only you were smarter, then you would know better than to taunt the seconds, you know they don’t like being watched.’ I hear the lost boys outside of my door, screaming too. They must have been capture when I did. I start screaming louder; I yell, “HOOK! WE’RE ON A BOAT, I KNOW YOU HAVE WATER, JUST PLEASE PUT THIS OUT, MY EYE IS ON FIRE, HELP ME, HOOK, HELP!” I hear the pirates mumbling in excitement and Hook comes in. He’s carrying the poison plant. He pulls one of the thorns off of it and sticks me in the arm with it. This time I’m sure it’s the sleepy one. As I drift from reality he looks me in the eyes and says, “Brian, must we go through this again? My name is Dr. Rob Macie. I am your psychiatrist. You’re name is Brian Barkest and you are in Goodforest Psychiatric ward in Blue Ridge, Georgia.” He hands me a sheet of paper. On this paper, Hook has written many nonsensical words, to confuse me I assume; the same reason he’s lying to me. My eyes pick out things like the fake name he calls me by, and schizophrenia, and paranoia, and delusion. The paper falls out of my hands and I drift deeper into sleep. As I enter what I have heard Hook refer to as REM sleep, I dream of things worth dreaming of. I dream of flying past clock towers with the girl I love and splashing with the mermaids and playing with the lost boys and using fairy dust to fly. I dream of never land and a life where I was smarter than Captain Hook and where Tinker Bell wasn’t so bitter toward me; before she began to harbor so much rancor because I let Hook capture us. Then the dreams depart and I rest.

I wake up, startled by the noise of hustle and bustle outside of my room. I look around and begin to try and roll over, and then I notice I can’t move my arms. As I pull and tug I realize why I am restricted. Captain hook has caught me again