Just a Pinch of Pixie Dust
(A Retelling of Peter Pan)
Prologue
-The Girl
I have always loved fairy tales. The kind of stories that always have a happy ending. In life its not always true. Maybe thats why I prefer to live in the realm of dreams. The realm any writer lives in, it comes second nature, like breathing. For what would a writer be with out their dreams. (A drad nonfiction writer that no one can stay awake to read their work, but who's keeping track) Well I may not be a writer yet but I'm working towards it and someday...someday I will reach it. I will, I have to believe in myself, because if I don't no one will.
"Tania, get your head of the clouds and come down for breakfast."
"Coming Dad." I called down the stairs. Instead of getting up immediately I turned back to the window to which I was perched on the window seat a satin pillow clutched to my chest. With a rescinded sigh I slid my hand down the glass pane gazing longingly at the sky. 'If only I could fly away'
"Tania!"
"I'm coming."
I stood silently looking once more out at the sky. Before my dad could give another irate call I walked down the Victorian style stair case. My dad was sitting at the dinner table his newspaper propped in front of him. He nodded to me as an acknowledgement and went on reading his paper. My mother was a whirlwind in the kitchen flying from one end to another cleaning and cooking.
I got a quick hug and smile then she was off on her cleaning whirlwind. I smiled sadly at her. Ever since my brothers moved out to help my grandparents on their farm she has immersed herself in cleaning. It was hard losing her middle and youngest child.
Of course she loved me and was happy I was here but as most first born children I was expected to do more, shoulder the blame and get less attention while watching the youngers get the extra cookie I had wanted so to speak.
When I was younger it had bothered me but now after years after years of it I was used to it and no longer got upset when I got the short end of the stick. Pulling myself from that rather depressing train of thought I moved to the cabinet that had our dishes and pulled a plate from it. From there I moved to the stove to shovel eggs bacon and other breakfast goodies onto said plate. Getting a fork on the way to the dinning room I was all set.
Dad was so immersed in his paper he didn't notice when I took the chair farthest from his. From the clock I could tell I would have to hurry so unlady like I eat as quickly as I could.
My mother insisted that I act like a "Lady" though I don't know why its the 21 century. But my mother had come over from england where it was excepted so long story short I had to be a right and proper English girl. It was ridiculous but who am I to say anything.
I finished just in time. I dumped the dishes in the sink kissed my mom and then dad on the cheek was out the door with minutes to spare. Parked in the long driveway was my car. My haven in the world of non believers. It was a sweet sky blue mustang. Climbing into the sweet smelling car was like a huge burden was lifted of my shoulders. My place, my freedom. Sadly the feeling would not stay. it would be gone when I traveled past the vast ground into the world of teenagerdome. A world that expels dreamers like lepers.
-The Boy
She is the one person that has ever showed me true kindness. She is the one my thoughts revolve around. She is the one that probably doesn't even remember me. I have of course changed I'm no longer the scrappy boy that needs a leg up. All because of her I had changed. I survived.
I reconized that I was probably a stalker but I couldn't help it she intrigued me and after that day in the park the instinct to protect her was as strong as ever.
The light in the park was perfect for basking in, she would come she always did. And like always exactly at 3:30 she came. Like always she had a notebook and blanket in her arms.
She spread it out under the willow in the enclosure no one but her and well myself knew of and began to write in the notebook. It was the fifth one she had filled with her story well that's what I thought it was.
I was preched on a low branch barely covered by leaves watching her writing. The curve of her lips when she smiled and the way she cupped her neck with her hand when she was reading what she wrote.
I couldn't help but smile at her as she twirled a lock of her coppery gold hair around her finger and pressing her pink petal lips in a line. I wished, as I often did when I watched her, that I could look straight into her ice blue eyes. Watching the deep intelligence in them, and the calm acceptance of the incident in front of her.
But watch her from a distance was all I could do. Ever. She deserved better I didn't even deserve to be a friend. No just a onlooker, watching as the infinitely loved princess passed by earning a small smile.
With a sigh I decided I should just leave her in peace but then I saw him. Someone that could and has tried to destory everything good and right in my world. I wouldn't let that happen. So blinded by determination I jumped into the clearing exposing myself.