Disclaimer and all that good stuff: obviously, I don't own Peter Pan. Or Hook. Or anything else except my OC's. so don't feed me to the croc. Please.
"Prologue"
Jane had said we would love this house. My parents had assured me I would. I wasn't sure if I believed them the first time I saw it. It was a bulky white thing in downtown London, cramped between two other adjoining buildings. Brown and green trimmed the windows, windows that stared forlornly at the street. When we knocked on the door, a small auburn haired lady opened the door with a warm smile. Laugh lines creased her forehead and chin; this was Jane. She explained that this house belonged to her parents, and their parents before them. The wrought iron sign on the door read Darling in fancy script. The house smelled like pine needles and lilies, with a warm feeling. Much unlike our old apartment.
"We really don't want to sell, but we have no choice. You can get all the furniture, except a few select pieces for free with the house. Feel free to look around. Cup of tea?" Jane had asked, as my parents—Barbara and Matt—seated themselves in the red couch. Then, her eyes flicked to me, standing very alone in the doorway.
"Oh, Grace, dear, would you like to see the nursery? I think it should suit you very much." I opened my mouth to answer happily, but my father interrupted between sips of Jasmine tea.
"Miss Darling, really, she is fourteen, I shan't think she would like a nursery, do you, honey?" But Jane took my elbow, steering me towards the stairs all the same.
"I assure you, we will be down in a few moments. Look around if you like. Just be aware of the step down to the kitchen." The stairs were deep brown and ornately carved, a frayed carpet running up the middle. They twisted slightly, leading to a large balcony. The Darlings must have been quite affluent, I thought, looking around at all the wonderful antiques. Suddenly, I was pushed into the most wonderful room I had ever seen. The walls were white, but pictures of pirates and jungles with tigers and storms and mountains and any other number of adventurous things were painted over them. A large window, complete with window seat, lay in the west wall, showering sunlight over the room. Three beds were positioned on the eastern wall, and dusty toys peeked from boxes and buckets and shelves lined with books. After I caught my breath, a grinning Jane toured me over to the window, seating me down on the red cushions.
"Now, I want you to remember something, alright? Never leave this window open at night, do you hear me? Bad things can happen, and I know how much you probably love adventure, but this is one that cant happen to you. Lock the window if you have to. Understand?"
But I didn't understand, and had completely forgotten her warning by the next week. But more than a year later, I remembered. Oh, yes.