He Lives in The Walls [1] Sure as hell not Peter Pan

I pressed my face against the cool glass of the window and watched the smudged images of trees and houses pass me. It was raining, which was the only good thing about the day.
The inside of the car was tense and extremely warm due to my mother's obsession with having the car as hot as it can possibly be.
My parents were recently divorced, and I really didn't care. They never really got along anyway. So my dad got some big promotion and we got this load of money. Since my mom really hated me and my dad was too busy working to take care of me they decided to buy me my own house, in which my mom would watch me on mondays, tuesdays, and wednsdays, and my dad would watch me on thursdays and fridays. On the weekends I had the house to myself... Joy.
I picked out some random house on the internet that I thought would do for about 4 or 5 years until I graduated from highschool and ran screaming from this town. It was an old two-story house on this pretty big lot with lots of trees and crap. I didn't really pay attention to it.

We arrived at the house and my disgusting excuse for a mother stepped out of the car. Her hair was once long red curls, but now she had bleached it blonde, cut it extremely short, and straightened it. Her face was covered in makeup to hide a few wrinkles and she wore clothing for people much younger than her. Whenever I commented (or insulted, more like) her choice of fashion she proclaimed herself a cougar than made horrible growling sounds and scratched the air with her bright red too-long fingernails. Frankly, she disgusted me. She was the reason for the divorce because of her constant stride to make herself feel younger by sleeping with younger men. It was severe, to the point whereI was afraid to bring any boys to my house for fear that somehow my mother would seduce them. Probably bribes of drugs or beer. I wasn't excited that my mother spent the most time with me out of both of my parents.
Then my father stepped out of the car and opened an umbrella. I honestly had no idea how he and my mother hooked up, but I was glad they did or I would've never been born. I looked a lot like my father, but mostly like his mother, my Nana. He had pale skin and dark brown hair withgrey streaks, along with dark brown eyes. His face was serious and he constantly wore some sort of suit. His life was dedicated to working and making money. He was some sort of business man and his job most likely involved ripping people off.
I, then, stepped out of the car. I didn't bother to take shelter under the umbrella seeing as I didn't have an expensive suit to protect or makeup that would run. I had olive colored skin, long dark brown hair, and hazel eyes. I wore an olive green sweater and dark brown caudoroys.
I stepped into the house right after my parents to find that the new furniture was already in it. The house was really old and dusty. The wallpaper was old and faded, and the floors were wooden. I was glad they didn't change it though.
I dropped my bookbag on the floor with a loud thump. In my other hand I held my very best friend, a kitten named Vern. I opened the carrier and he cautiously stepped out. Then he sniffed around the room. He was a black and white cat with those pretty green eyes.
I dug a book out of my bookbag, threw myself on the couch, and immediatly made myself at home. I was meant to be a "Leave, now" signal for my parents, and they took the hint. They walked out to the car, I heard it start, then speed away.
I closed my book and threw it on the floor. I was free to explore the house.
As I explored I found that it had many rooms, most of them empty.
"If they forgot to give me a bedroom..." I muttered, then stopped as I opened a door to a furnished room. It had walls and floors like the rest of the house. There was a TV, a bookshelf, a computer, an inntable with a phone, and a bed with grey sheets and blankets on it.
I smiled. My mother did not decorate my room.
My stomach growled and I found the kitchen. I fixed myself a simple dinner, noodles and butter. After I finished it I went to bed.

I awoke and I didn't open my eyes. It was hot in the house, my mother must've turned up the thermostat the few minutes she was in the house. I groaned and rolled over.
Suddenly there was a burst of cold air, but it wasn't a piercing cold, it was a comfortable sort of cold.
I opened my eyes to see someone, a boy, floating above me.
I screamed bloody murder and sat up straight in the bed.
I screamed for about 30 seconds then I stopped because my throat hurt.
I examined the boy. He was a few years older than me, maybe. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. Oh, and he was freaking see-through.
"Who the hell are you?" I snapped.
"Well, I'm sure as hell not Peter Pan." He replied.