Northern Lights
Summary: "I'm not afraid of dying." She took another step forward. "In fact, a little bit of me has been dying every day since you came back." And with that, her body plummeted down from the tower. Multi-chapter story. Rated M for cutting/suicidal themes.
Hello everybody! This is my first Peter Pan fic, so any feedback would be much appreciated! This story is based upon the characters from the 2003 film.
Oh, and just to make things clear: Wendy is 16 years old, and Peter is 17 years old.
Anyway, on with the story!
It had been over two years since she last saw him.
A whole seven-hundred-and-eighty-nine days since she last looked into his eyes and heard him say; "I'll be back for you, Wendy." And funnily enough, she believed him. The sincerity in his eyes stunned her, and for a moment - she thought he'd actually loved for her.
So there she was for two years, pushing her window wide open before she went to bed every single night with the hopes of catching a glimpse of him. Sometimes, she even drew back the curtains a little – to let him know that he was welcome to come in…
But he never came.
She still clearly remembered that one night she finally snapped.
"Stop this nonsense, Wendy! This boy is all make-belief in your head – he's never going to come!" Her father screamed with eyes full of fury. "You are sixteen years old now, Wendy - a young woman!" He ranted, pacing around the room. "Half the family thinks you're delusional with these so-called 'adventures' of yours! How are we going to find a suitor for you if you're labelled as insane?"
He quietened abruptly once he saw the hurt and frustration in her eyes and then proceeded to sit down next to her.
"Wendy…" he started in a much softer tone, "from now on, I want that window shut. You hear? It's for your own good."
And oddly enough, she was more than pleased to do so.
She sighed as she delicately pushed the crimson curtain aside, fixing her gaze onto the bustling streets below. The hot air in the room was suffocating and she desperately wanted to let the fresh air in, so she raised her hand with intentions to push open the cold glass when she froze suddenly; it had been seven months since she last even touched the window - and although she claimed to herself that she had gotten over him, she just couldn't bring herself to even go near the only connection that they shared.
"Wendy!" the voice called from the bottom of the staircase, breaking her out of her trance. "Wendy dear, come downstairs and greet the guests!"
Her mother had decided to organise a party after her father was promoted at work - and by the sounds of things currently downstairs - it was a busy one. With a dejected sigh, she laid the hairbrush she was clutching down onto the dresser and gazed up reluctantly. As she looked at her reflection, a sound of disgust escaped her lips. Over the course of the past two years, she'd almost moulded into a completely different person. She became depressed and began self-harming on a regular basis, and her body was so thin that her hip bones and shoulder blades stuck out like wings. Her once-perfect relationship with her parents had also gone downhill – she was their only daughter and they expected so much more of her.
But the scariest thing of all is that just recently, she had begun to start having suicidal thoughts.
She never thought that her life would stoop so low that she would even contemplate such a selfish act – but oddly enough, it felt like second nature.
Shaking the troublesome thoughts out of her head, she composed herself and took a few steps back to view her dress in the mirror. It had been passed down to her from her mother last year, and tonight would be her first time wearing it. It was a shade of the purest blue and was adorned with hundreds of sequins and crystals. The waist was tucked in tightly - although not to its full extent – as that would reveal her anorexia-driven body. Her shoes were a pair of crystal white slippers with a two-inch heel that were decorated with bows at the sides for an elegant finish. Finally, her eyes trailed up to look at her hair. It had been curled by Mrs. Darling earlier that day and she'd pinned it half of it up in an eloquent bun, leaving the rest to sit comfortably on her shoulders. The only accessory was a single white flower which sat on top of the masses of curls.
Sparing one last glance at the mirror, Wendy made her way downstairs to the party.
"Ah, here she is; my daughter Wendy!" Mr. Darling cried as he beckoned Wendy over towards him. "Wendy, this is my co-worker; ."
"Nice to meet you, Sir Abberline," she curtseyed, faking a dainty smile. This seemed to impress Mr. Abberline as he raised his eyebrows and nodded towards Mr. Darling.
"What a polite young daughter you have, Mr. Abberline!" he said. "I'm sure your Wendy must have plenty of suitors lined up at your door!" he laughed.
Wendy could see that although her father laughed along, he was slightly uncomfortable – as was she. Quickly excusing herself from their presence, she walked over to the food table and helped herself to a glass of water.
Even though there's so many people around me, I still feel lonely… she thought to herself as she quietly sipped a glass of freshly poured water in the secluded corner of the hall. Her pale fingers toys with the glass and she stared at the liquid spinning inside the object.
"Wendy!"
She snapped her head up and came face to face with her mother.
"Oh hello, Mother," she put down her glass. "How can I help you?"
Wendy noted that her mother looked like she was having a grand time - due to her flushed cheeks and the huge grin that was plastered on her face.
"Your cousin Eleanor," she began.
At this point, Wendy's heart dropped even further if possible. Her cousin Eleanor was the same age as her, but lived all the way up north in Manchester so the two rarely saw each other (much to Wendy's joy) because Eleanor was a horrible person to her. She'd suck up to her elders and other family members but treat Wendy like dirt – and Wendy was too quiet a girl to do anything back. So whenever Eleanor was around, she'd just have to suck it up and bear the torment.
"Wendy? Are you listening?" her mother said and gently shook Wendy's arm.
"Oh…" Wendy snapped out of her train of thoughts. "Sorry, mother. Can you please repeat what you just said?"
Mrs. Darling sighed and cleared her throat. "Your cousin, Eleanor, was invited tonight but she hasn't arrived yet. I'd like you to keep watch at the door in case she arrives. Is that alright?"
Wendy reluctantly nodded and retrieved her glass of water from the table. "Alright, mother."
Her mother nodded curtly and turned to leave but stopped suddenly short and spun back round to face Wendy again.
"May I help you, mother?"
"Just between you and I, Wendy…" her mother began, moving closer to Wendy so that only they could hear the conversation, "your cousin Eleanor is bringing her suitor tonight!" she finished with an excited tint to her voice.
Wendy's jaw dropped.
How could an absolute cow like her attract anyone? Her mind screamed.
"I heard from your Aunt Gretchen," Mrs. Darling continued, "that they have been courting for almost two years."
Wendy stifled a gasp– she had no idea!
"Who is this…fine gentleman that is courting my cousin, may I ask?"
"Well, Aunt Gretchen said that: on a cold winter night roughly two years ago," her mother started, "she was having dinner with the family when a scruffy looking boy approached their house and knocked on their door, saying he was searching for someone but he had somehow gotten lost. Your Aunt pitied the young boy so she took him in. Straight away your cousin Eleanor took a great interest in the boy -and ever since then the two have been in a relationship." Her mother finished, leaving Wendy very much intrigued.
She looked down at the floor and processed the information into her brain. "But how come-" Wendy began to ask but was then quickly cut off by the sound of loud knocking at the front door. The loud noise broke their conversation and her mother quickly composed herself
"That should be them. Be an angel and get the door, will you?" she patted Wendy on the head and then started to walk away.
"Of course!" Wendy chirped and began to make her way through the hoards of guests to reach the mahogany doors. The place wasn't too packed, but Wendy still had to push and shove a little to get through the crowd.
She took a deep breath as she reached the entrance and placed her hand on the handle of the doors. On the other side of the thin door would be her most dreaded cousin. Wendy was mentally preparing herself to see the cousin she had grown to dislike and become slightly afraid of - Wendy was a shy and reserved girl; certainly not one to stand up for herself or to fight back.
The loud banging on the door could be heard again, sending vibrations down Wendy's arm. With a swift yank, she pulled open the door and came face to face with the face her worst nightmare: Eleanor.
She stood around the same height as Wendy but her posture was nowhere near as elegant. Her blonde hair was tied tightly into a low ponytail that rested onto her shoulders, and her makeup was heavy and over-exaggerated.
"Oh, cousin Wendy," she seethed, "how nice to see you again," She spat her words out in such a cold tone it made Wendy shudder.
"You too, Cousin Eleanor," she mumbled back in a tone no kinder than hers. "Do come on in."
"You must excuse me for a minute, Wendy," Eleanor said as Wendy stepped to the side to make room for her to walk in. "I'm sure your mother has told you about my darling sweet pea. He had to run back to the hotel to pick up my purse, you see, so he'll be here any minute," Eleanor said in such a sickly tone that it made Wendy want to gag. "It's great – being in love," she mused, "too bad you will never know what it's like, Wendy."
Wendy's mouth twitched to spill out with profanities and dirty words, but then thought better not to – Eleanor would no doubt tell mother, so she had no other option but to grin and bear it.
Eleanor was just about to open her mouth – probably to insult Wendy again – when she was cut off by the sound a someone yelling her name.
"Eleanor!" the voice called.
Wendy's ears pricked up slightly at the sound of it – it sounded somewhat…familiar.
"Eleanor!" it called again; and Wendy saw Eleanor turn her head round to the source of the voice and grin. The footsteps were getting closer and closer…
"Eleanor – here's your purse," the voice finally said as the figure of its owner started to emerge. By now, Wendy's arms were covered in goose bumps – she definitely knew that voice…
"Thank you, darling," Eleanor squeaked. "You're such a gentleman."
Curiosity got the better of Wendy - she irrevocably couldn't resist sparing a glance at the boy.
And so, ever so slowly, she lifted her head and focused her ocean blue eyes onto him…
Only to drop her glass of water and squeak when the sharp blades dug into her skin.
"Wendy, what is wrong with you!" Eleanor screamed in annoyance. "You're embarrassing me here!"
But Wendy paid no attention to her - for her heart was pumping rapidly as if it was on fire.
"P-P…" she stuttered, unable to get the words out.
"Wendy, what the hell is wrong with you?" Eleanor screamed. "Get yourself together!"
Wendy's gaze intensified.
"Peter?"
Thank you for reading, please review! :-)