DISCLAIMER: I do not own Peter Pan or any of its characters. I own my characters, and the idea for this story.
-
I don't want this…
I never wanted this.
This…way of life.
The way I feel…I know it can't be helped, but that never stopped me from wishing, hoping. I've heard it said that wishing only wounds the heart, but that didn't stop me, either.
I have always wanted to be seen, to be heard, to be understood. But no one does that here, where I live. They see me as a prize, as a trophy. Something to be proud of and to show off. They say that I must carry on their name. But for what? What's in a name but letters? Nothing. To me, at least.
Apparently, to them, it means fame, and popularity. But to me, I have no name. The name they gave me feels odd on my tongue. It feels sour, and ugly. Madeline Menout. It may sound pretty, but I don't think so.
I prefer Adine. Yes, I like that very much. It may be close to the name I was given at birth, but it is not the same. Not nearly the same. We are a French family living in England; the reason for why I do not have a French accent, and the reason for my French name. My parents insist on calling me Madeline. Sometimes Maddy for short when they are feeling affectionate.
I hate it.
They think that I am becoming a disgrace because I am not married yet, even though I have accomplished much in school. I am educated, yes, but I am not as grown up as they think. I still read my childhood books, my favorite being one of a wonderful boy who could fly, who never grew up. That one is my favorite. I never grew up, really. I can act it when I need to, but really, I am a child at heart.
I have often dreamed of a place where I can be myself, where I can be carefree, and blissful. A place where I wouldn't have to worry about what people would say. Oh I don't care about what they think or say about me, but my parents do. And then I get into trouble.
Apparently, that is not what 'ladies' do in high society families. It is what scoundrels and street rats do. But I am no lady. They think I am – well, they are quite jaded, if you ask me. If they loved me as much as they always say they do, they would take my wishes as well as theirs into account. Not just their own.
I am nineteen, and I will be twenty soon. Twenty…that is what I fear, what I loathe. What I never want to be. But it is the way of life, and so I must. There is one way out of it…but can I really do that? I know I can, but I still have doubts, and I still have my hope that someday, something will happen.
My parents think that one must be careful in life, and always be wary. But the way I think does not match theirs. I don't understand this. How can people be happy while constantly watching their lives like hawks? To be safe, they lose their chances of ever finding out what's just around the corner, because they are too scared.
I have always wanted to know. I am not one of them, but someone who wants to have adventure.
My family expects me to carry their 'legacy.' What legacy? The filthy rich money they have? The famous last name they have? The disgustingly sweet, fake, personalities they have?
They still say they love me, and they say they are still proud of me, even if I cannot find a husband. Their reasons are not the same as mine. I am not being conceited, but I could find a husband if I wanted to. I just don't want one. I want to stay young, and all of them are stiff and want nothing to do with their wives but bed them, have children with them, and make them their maids.
If I have no choice…I should choose Erik, then. At least he is handsome and courteous to me. But I don't want that. I want to rid myself of this life.
This place I dream of…it is where I wouldn't have to do anything anyone ordered, where I could be as energetic as I want, run around without shoes on and stick my feet in the sand, or silky mud. Where I would be happy.
Where I would be free.
I have often dreamed
Of a far off place
Where a great, warm welcome would be waiting for me.
Where the crowds will cheer
When they see my face
And a voice keeps saying this is where I'm meant to be.
I will find my way
I can go the distance
I'll be there someday if I can be strong
I know every mile
Will be worth my while
I would go most anywhere to feel like I belong.
This song always suited me, I thought. Though, the crowds who would cheer would be the people of the beautiful, mystical island when they saw me and Peter flying towards them, after defeating pirates!
Yes, I like that idea. I have always wanted to fight a pirate, or two. Or more. And I have always wanted to see what a mermaid would look like, but of course, I could never get that chance unless Peter Pan came to my window and set my spirit free.
I know my wishes and dreams are childish, but can you blame me? I never wanted this life of having to please others in order to be respected, even if they did not deserve the respect you gave them. It is not right to me. I hate it, and I hate myself for going along with it. But if I rebelled, I would be punished severely. I would be locked up, and never allowed to explore the town in which I live.
I would never be allowed to read my favorite books, or write my stories, or dream. They would try to break me, break my soul and childish spirit. But they can't, no they can't. Not even if they tried everything they could think of.
They say they love me, but they don't, and I know that as a fact. For if they did love me, they would make sure I stayed happy, and they would never force me to do the things they order me to do. They would take my feelings into account, and they would make sure that I loved them in return.
They don't care that I don't love them. In fact, I'm not so sure they even realize that I don't. They don't know that I wish I was never born. I often wish that the horrid woman who gave birth to me had a miscarriage. That way, I would never have had to live through this. Yes I know I am being selfish, but that is how I feel.
I want to feel more, though. I want to feel like I belong, I want to know people who actually really honestly love me. I sound depressing, and overly dramatic, you are thinking. Well, why don't you try to live my life and then tell me that. I am tired of being bossed around, tired of dressing up for idiotic men who like to look at me. Who care about how I look and how good of a maid I will be to them; an asset is all they see.
An asset to their lives, just another beautiful thing. I know I am beautiful, but not inside. Inside, I feel torn, and scattered. Unloved, and worthless. When my parents become angry with me, that is what they call me. Worthless and meaningless. I know that to them, my meaning in life is to give them grandchildren and marry into a family as wealthy and well known as ourselves, or more so.
I refuse.
They just sent me to my room with no dinner because I told them that I refuse to do anything they ask of me anymore. They were very angry. But I don't care. I want nothing to do with this life anymore, and I won't wait around for them to marry me off to some duke who would rape me every night.
I will make my own destiny.
Now they are left with no one. I wrote a note with three small words on it for them when they find it in my room, when they find out that they no longer have a daughter.
I am free.
-
Thank you for reading. This was something that just popped out of my head when I was in my dorm room doing nothing. I know it's sad, but at least she finally was free. Please tell me what you think.