READ: So I have this habit of doing this thing where I start things ... and just don't finish them. What you're about to read was originally supposed to be called "Analeigh's Neverland" & it wasn't supposed to be published on FF. This is one of my original pieces which I just put Miley and Nick's name into. I started this over the summer (thank you Jen for sticking by me that entire time!) and I wanted to write this as a book. But then, someone (JEN!) pointed out to me, "how are you going to get the rights to Peter Pan?" Well God damn. I never thought of that. So... that's how this little piece of myself ended up here on FF for your enjoyment (well, hopefully you enjoy this!) Please review, this is something very, very personal to me and I'd love to hear your thoughts. I don't think many of you know how dear you're reviews are to me.
Wendy Darling had found her sanctuary at the mere age of twelve; the second to the right, and straight on 'till morning. "To Neverland" Peter had proclaimed to the three children, a land of fairies and mermaids and pirates; a land filled with adventure, triumph, swords, and flying. Peter Pan had showed Neverland to Wendy in hopes that she too, would stay there forever and wish not to ever grow up. But, even as the mermaids danced across the sparkling sea and the fairies dusted the moonlit sky with their magic, her thoughts wandered back home. Her mother and father must have been worrying, Nana surely would be howling with insanity, and oh, the neighbors, what would they think? So to Peter's dismay, Wendy left. Peter had felt a twinge of sadness when she did so, but he brushed it off as he did with all the other unimportant things. The day Wendy Darling grew up, a fraction of Neverland lost its magic.
--
"The editors of Elle called yesterday, they want you to go over the draft of your interview to see if everything does you justice. That they didn't write anything untrue" Tish Cyrus explained as she kept her eyes targeted straight ahead and both hands on the greasy wheel since she and her daughter had just shared a cinnabun from the nearby bakery.
"K" Miley sighed from beside her mother in the front seat. Her experienced fingers continued to glide across her phone's keyboard, Demi had texted her, the fifteenth time the past hour; explaining how she was recovering from she and Trace's break up and doing well, of course that was a lie, Miley knew Demi well enough not to believe her little excuses and white lies.
From: DemzMiley mentally scowled. Nicky was killing her. Practically killing her. One night he'd call, another he wouldn't. A week's time they wouldn't talk, he was in control this time and she hated it. She absolutely hated it.
It's fine. I mean, the band's distracting me. Whatever. Hey… how's Nicky?
To: Demz"Miles, are you listening to me?" Tish's voice cut off her suffocating thoughts. "Hmm?" she lifted her head, "Oh, yeah" she lied.
You tell me, he probably talks to you more often than to me.
She and Nick had been video chatting a lot lately. Well, not lately, she supposed. For the past week she had had no contact, whatsoever. Maybe she missed the calls when she was "out", maybe he just didn't call. Maybe he had just been busy. It didn't matter, she felt lonely.
And that's when the idea formed. Maybe she'd go tonight. To the one place she hadn't been to in a few days, the only place that could mend her half-broken spirit.
Maybe she wouldn't wait for Nick tonight. If he called, he called … but she wouldn't be there to answer. She had another boy to visit. One she knew would always be there for her. Just … waiting.
"Let this train wreck burn more slowly,
kids are victims in this story
Drown our youth with useless warnings,
teenage rules they're fucked and boring"
Miley threw her body viciously around her room, jumping up and down, thrashing her arms, spinning as fast as she could, trying to burn her anger.
"We really need to see this through,
we never wanted to be abused
We'll never give up, it's no use,
if we're fucked up you're to blame"
Jumping onto her sky blue comforter that draped over her daybed, she jumped on the spring mattress, her knees beginning to shake and wobble from how much pressure she was putting on them. Jumping high, she leapt into the air, touching the ceiling with the tips of her fingers in the process. Her speakers continued to blast.
She wanted her eardrums to bleed, her vision to go blurry, her headache to grow stronger and she wanted to make it all go away at the same time.
Everything has fallen to pieces,
Everything has fallen to pieces,
Everything has fallen to pieces,
Everything has fallen to ..."
"What is this?" a voice interrupted her. Miley's legs froze along with the rest of her body on top of the bed. She stared at the figure standing on her windowsill, looking at her curiously. She was wearing lilac boxer shorts and a Metro Station t-shirt. "It's-it's music" she explained, while trying to catch her breath and ignore how the room felt like it was spinning at the moment.
"Music?" the boy furrowed his eyebrows as he leapt off of the windowsill and into the air, "That's not music. That's just a bunch of silly grown ups screaming and banging metal together."
Miley couldn't help the smile that came as she looked at the boy, floating in the air, with his arms crossed arrogantly and the smirk on his boyish face. "First of all, it's called singing, second of all, they are not grown ups, at least they weren't when they recorded this and third of all …" she paused and then her smile brightened, "what are you doing here, Peter?"
Peter uncrossed his arms and flew across the room to her bedside where he sat down, with his legs crossed, beside her, "Here to take you, of course" he smiled, charmingly.
The day Miley met Peter Pan, the boy of all children's imagination, was the day her life changed for the better. "To take me where?" she played along.
"Oh, I'm not certain" he shrugged his shoulders playfully.
"Miley! Make the music stop! Just because you're in a separate wing doesn't mean me and Em can't hear it!" Noah banged on her door. Miley quickly jumped up from her spot on the bed and ran over to her stereo system, turning the knob to the left to lower the volume. "Finally" she heard Noah's small voice begin to fade along with her footsteps.
She quickly turned around to see Peter back on the windowsill, "I need to get out of here" she sighed tiredly.
--
Miley once again found herself in a very familiar place, a place where the blossoms grew and never stopped growing, where elephants and mice found a string of harmony, where something called television was the fairytale, and where growing up was never allowed. The light filtered in through the growing trees and soon heated her cheeks as she stepped into the opening.
"I have something to take care of" Peter explained, letting go of Miley's soft hand. "Go to the tree, I'll meet you there soon."
And then … he was gone. Her hand now felt cold.
"Miley!" a small cry was heard from across the never ending field. Soon Curly was by her side, latching onto her small waist and burying his head into her chest, "Oh how I've missed you!" he cried.
"Oh, Curly" Miley simply smiled and softly laughed while running her fingers through the mop of hair upon his small head, "I've only been gone a couple of nights"
"Hundreds of days it feels to me!" he exclaimed, letting go of the girl he considered his mother. Now, Miley knew better than that to actually consider herself one, but she played along for his sake. "The others?" she asked, curiously, looking around the empty field; all there was but grass and dandelions. "Underground" he smiled widely.
A sudden breeze tickled the ends of her hair and brushed past her pink cheeks. Looking up into the bright sky, she felt the sunshine that was coming undone above her. Breathing in the magic that lingered in the wind, she closed her eyes and took Curly's hand in hers, lacing their fingers and smiling. Once the wind died down, she reluctantly opened her eyes again and looked down on Curly, "Lead the way."
The home under the ground was exactly as it sounded, simply a home underground. J.M. Barrie had been a man of imagination, some has said. What none knew was that he was a man of truth and faith. Just as he had once wrote, there were mushrooms sprouting from below to be used as sitting stools, a giant Never tree growing in the center of the room and a beautiful fireplace that lit every inch and centimeter of the cozy home. "Mother has returned!" Curly's voice echoed as Miley slid down the slide leading to her second home.
"Mother!" a bustle of noise, the pitter patter of bare feet and soon enough she was laying upon the dirt floor, with five boys upon her, listing off all the adventures she had missed and all that Peter had done and said to them.
"Are you here for a while?" Tootles asked excitedly.
They didn't understand. They thought she came to take care of them and to always be there, but in truth, as selfish as it was, she always came to Neverland to escape the harsh bite of reality.
Tinkerbell flew by her quickly, a flash of light. "Don't play Tinkerbell, I have too much to tell you" Miley giggled. And then she was there, buzzing with happiness in Miley's ear; awaiting the promise of secrets and gossip from the real world.
Miley was fascinated with the fact that Tinkerbell took to her, when she despised Wendy. Maybe it was because she had told Tink about Nick and so she automatically thought she had nothing to worry about with anything happening between Peter and Miley.
Miley knew the story of Wendy Darling. Tinkerbell had told it to her once, a long time ago. 'Peter does not feel', Tinkerbell had said, 'but Wendy had forced him to'.
Sometimes she dreamed about Peter late at night, but then Tinkerbell's words would always come to mind. She could not make him feel like Wendy did. For some reason, this upset her.
Really upset her.
But, why?