Forever Neverland
John Darling sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He reached over and put on his glasses so he could see the clock. It was three in the morning, but he wasn't tired. He looked over at Michael. Michael had grown up so much over the years and was now seven. John was thirteen and Wendy, fifteen. Wendy had been removed from the nursery. He remembered the fateful night that Wendy announced that she was ready to grow up and leave the nursery. Wendy may have been ready, but John certainly wasn't. He missed Wendy dearly still and wished she were back in the nursery.
John sniffed and wiped his eyes with his dressing gown. Wendy was the one who told them about Peter Pan and Neverland.
Neverland. Oh, how he missed Neverland. He remembered the sensation of flying. Flying over fields and moors. He wished he had stuck near Wendy longer. How he missed her now. He stood up and walked to the window, where Wendy always sat when she was upset. He looked out the window and wondered if Peter remembered them. The lost boys fatefully had gone back where they would never grow up, having now a sense of what it was like.
John still wasn't ready to grow up. He still wanted to think freely and innocently, but now his mind was weighed down with the pangs and terrors of adolescence. He was terribly jealous of Michael, who didn't have to experience that yet, and admired Wendy who had gone through the hard part all ready-the beginning. The changes were hard for John not because he was the second child to go through with it but because he was so different.
He was so different from all the other children at his school. He did everything alone, while watching Wendy and Michael surrounded by friends. He didn't have any friends, and now he was beginning to fancy a certain girl. He didn't like this because he didn't have a friend to share it with. Michael was too young and Wendy didn't seem to take interest in anything anymore. At least, nothing that had to do with him.
Wendy no longer told the stories of the boy who never grew up and the pirates he had killed. Or about the mermaids who splashed playfully in the water, flashing their fins and giggling. John didn't even know how to swim. He never learned, and Michael was like a fish all ready, as was Wendy. He almost accepted his ineptness for sports and no longer tried to excel. He was different.
He started to get up but then noticed a star. It was different from all the others. It stood out. It was almost a reddish color. Is that me? Am I the red star that stands out from all the others? I wouldn't have noticed it had I not been looking. Maybe I just have to wait for someone to look for me.
With that final thought, he slid back into his bed and took off his glasses. The room became blurry, just like the world. He closed his eyes and fell asleep; still imagining who it would be that would find him.
John Darling sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. He reached over and put on his glasses so he could see the clock. It was three in the morning, but he wasn't tired. He looked over at Michael. Michael had grown up so much over the years and was now seven. John was thirteen and Wendy, fifteen. Wendy had been removed from the nursery. He remembered the fateful night that Wendy announced that she was ready to grow up and leave the nursery. Wendy may have been ready, but John certainly wasn't. He missed Wendy dearly still and wished she were back in the nursery.
John sniffed and wiped his eyes with his dressing gown. Wendy was the one who told them about Peter Pan and Neverland.
Neverland. Oh, how he missed Neverland. He remembered the sensation of flying. Flying over fields and moors. He wished he had stuck near Wendy longer. How he missed her now. He stood up and walked to the window, where Wendy always sat when she was upset. He looked out the window and wondered if Peter remembered them. The lost boys fatefully had gone back where they would never grow up, having now a sense of what it was like.
John still wasn't ready to grow up. He still wanted to think freely and innocently, but now his mind was weighed down with the pangs and terrors of adolescence. He was terribly jealous of Michael, who didn't have to experience that yet, and admired Wendy who had gone through the hard part all ready-the beginning. The changes were hard for John not because he was the second child to go through with it but because he was so different.
He was so different from all the other children at his school. He did everything alone, while watching Wendy and Michael surrounded by friends. He didn't have any friends, and now he was beginning to fancy a certain girl. He didn't like this because he didn't have a friend to share it with. Michael was too young and Wendy didn't seem to take interest in anything anymore. At least, nothing that had to do with him.
Wendy no longer told the stories of the boy who never grew up and the pirates he had killed. Or about the mermaids who splashed playfully in the water, flashing their fins and giggling. John didn't even know how to swim. He never learned, and Michael was like a fish all ready, as was Wendy. He almost accepted his ineptness for sports and no longer tried to excel. He was different.
He started to get up but then noticed a star. It was different from all the others. It stood out. It was almost a reddish color. Is that me? Am I the red star that stands out from all the others? I wouldn't have noticed it had I not been looking. Maybe I just have to wait for someone to look for me.
With that final thought, he slid back into his bed and took off his glasses. The room became blurry, just like the world. He closed his eyes and fell asleep; still imagining who it would be that would find him.