Chapter 1
Hey everyone! My name is Chelsea and this is my first fanfic. It is a Peter Pan fanfic from Claire, Wendy's second daughter's, pov. Please review and criticism is taken with a grain of salt. I will listen to any suggestions! Please enjoy! I do not own Peter Pan.
Sobs racked my body as I collapsed onto my bed. One thought kept racing around my mind, "Why her? She's a wicked jealous witch! She didn't deserve to fly with you. After all, she did leave you and me. Please come for me and take me away from this wretched place! I am all alone with my mother and father… They don't even love me! They just pretend for the public." Steady streams of burning tears were flowing down my face, creating pink lines that flowed over my splotchy cheeks and smooth chin.
Knock Knock. My head whipped around at breakneck speed as I simultaneously screamed, "What do you want?!"
"Dear, I only want to talk to you." My mother's soft, gentle voice pierced my ears like knives.
My teeth gritted, I replied, "After what happened? I'm surprised you still have the nerve to talk to me Wendy." Those words were filled with loathing as I used my mother's first name. "And by the way, why did Peter pick you and Jane but not me?" I could imagine my mother's eyes brimming with tears and her cheeks reddening, just like they always did when Jane, who had visited him before, mentioned him. This gave me immense satisfaction.
My fight with Jane had been about Jane eloping with her new fiancée Percy. I had shrieked at her about Percy and how she was too young, but it somehow morphed into my jealousy about Peter. That was the final straw for me. I cursed her name and removed her from my life. My mother was furious enough at me for cursing Jane that she slapped me across the face. I do not forgive and forget. This life-changing fight happened only two days ago and I haven't come out of my room except to eat every once in a while. Now, my mother was trying to speak to me?! That is not happening. Not on my watch.
"Claire, you must come out!" she pleaded.
"Make me!" I spat through the wooden door. I heard an enormous sigh as my mother padded softly down the hall. With that, all of my energy was spent. I buried my head into my pillow and began to scream in frustration, pain, and hate. In the midst of screaming, I failed to observe the scene at my window. A mop of red hair, shaking, peered around the panes. The figure motioned for a much smaller, golden figure with wings to creep into the bedroom. The figures silently agreed with a nod. Something must be done with this girl Claire.