Peter Pan wasn't always the king of Neverland, once he was offered an opportunity- an opportunity that would seem for any other person like a dream come true and therefore too good to pass up. He was offered this only once but to everyone's surprise, even his own turned this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity down, down to rule over an island paradise.

Though, everybody thinks he turned it down; only he knows the truth. That he, Peter Pan, ran away like the little coward he is for when he heard that would have to take on some responsibility he just couldn't bring himself to sacrifice almost everything that he thought was true.

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One day Peter, was just a happy-go-lucky, carefree child, that was until that one winter, that winter his father had bought him a sled, all day and into the evening he would ride on the snow-covered hills. as it was growing dark and the winds started to blow, his dad pleaded with him to come inside. However, the boy didn't listen he was too much fun zipping and zooming down the seemingly endlessly huge snow-covered hills, so much so that he completely ignored when he started to cough, as it got later and later, leading deeper and deeper into the night it got colder and colder as the winds started to blow, whooshing through the trees. However, Peter still went on ignoring all of this as he was still having all too much fun, however, when his father came out to check on him— he sat devastated yesterday heartbroken as to what he saw. Lying on his back in the snow was the lifeless body of his son, examining the lips of the body; the son's father was shocked to discover that the lip and body were blue, his breathing was labored, quickly he scooped up his son and brought him inside. Frantically he picked up the phone and with a shaky hand, he quickly dialed the number of the family doctor. His son was quickly diagnosed was Pneumonia and died later peacefully in the night.

Grieving over the loss of his son his father who was a well-known scientist created a machine that would hopefully bring his son back to him.

Elsewhere, the boy now found himself by shocking, not in heaven or hell but watching from a distance outside of his body, outside of the very house he lived and had called home for years. For 3 years after this he wandered the streets of his home town unable to make sense of any of this, that was until he found himself looking up at the moon— it was so big and bright he couldn't help but be compelling and drawn to it and it's beauty. "You're Peter Pan" the moon spoke not with words but as if it were almost telepathy, in brain waves. "I chose you for you have the never-ending, carefree spirit of a child"

"Chose he for what!" the boy yelled into the wind. However, the moon remained silent. Sighing sadly, the boy shrugged those idiotic words off, chopping them up as nothing but utter nonsense and simply a figment of his crazy child-like imagination brought on by hallucinations due to the chill.

"Ha, finally a village" he shouted gleefully, running up to a few of the children that were outside of the cookie-cutter dark brown, almost rundown houses. The four children he saw were split into teams of two, the two on the right had just finished drawing a hopscotch board out of chock drawn out on the sidewalk and were jumping and playing happily. Meanwhile, looking shifting his gaze over to the left he saw the children just sitting on the sidewalk, one with a small red ball in their hand and small grey X's scattered across the ground.

He starred in amazement as he wasted no time in running up to them, ready to make friends.

"Hello!" He called out happily.

"Did you hear something?" One of the boys asked the one playing Jax. The other boy just shook his head in a 'no' like motion.

Hmmm... strange" Peter thought, not dwelling on that for too long, instead, moving to the band of hopscotch boy however he was once again shocked and surprised when one of them simply jumped right through him. Baffled and shocked out of his senses he ran and ran, trudging as fast as he could through the knee-high deep snow until he came to a lone tree and proceeded to bash his head against the trunk of the tree. Thoughts began to swirl in his brain as he began to break down into a puddle of tears as this one single thought of why me? began to play over and over in his head, almost as if he'd been placed on autopilot. His thoughts began to migrate toward his lips and he was unable to fight the weird, strange, and yet uncomfortable compulsion that almost seemed to take over his soul. Seemingly unable to break the death-defying endlessly cycle that twisted and turned in his brain unable to stop the fast-paced of his compulsive thought process it was almost as if his brain was stuck on a roller coaster each thought the same, picking up speed with every breath that surpassed his lips, almost as if his whole life had been somehow cursed into living on repeat in an endless vortex of a time loop, time itself stopping, nothing mattered except that one thought, unable to break the endless cycle of thought surpassing his lips. He sat hopelessly against the tree, seconds turned into minutes, minutes turned into hours as he sat and wept the thought still clouding his mind, nothing was about to break him out of his trance.

Slowly standing, he walked a few paces until something made him stop dead in his tracks. What was that? He wondered, looking up he thought if only for a moment that he spotted a... a boy riding on the wind. Unobtrusive touching down on the snow-covered surface of the earth. The boy wearing nothing but a blue hoodie with frost covering some parts along with some short brown shorts, hair spiked out in all directions and white as the purest snow, his milky white shin stayed perfectly unchanged as he walked bear-foot through the snow. Blue eyes shining brightly cutting through the snow still heavily coming down like a knife.

Trudging up through the ice and snow towards the young boy he stuck his hand out for the young boy to shake.

"Hi, I'm Jack Frost" he greeted happily, smiling as wide and as crazily as ever. Hope this time, this young child was able to see him. That was the only downside of being a guardian, every new village of town he visited he hoped and prayed that there was one or two kids that could quite possibly believe enough in order to see him, after all, every guardian whomever lived used to be someone who died and instead of going to heaven or hell just like any other human being does, they just surprisingly stuck around, as if chosen for a purpose- a much higher purpose in fact then that of what one can only imagine heaven or hell can provide.