Almost every child knows the story of the boy who never grows up. The lure of reckless freedom; an unrestrained future of no dreary responsibilities or adult cares is overwhelming to their little minds. The tale has captivated children for generations as each impatiently waits for his imminent arrival. Yet years of fruitless waiting with open windows turn the magical conviction into sullen and bitter disappointment. Some react with tears and rebellion, eventually spiralling down into dream-deprived grownups spurning the "idle fancies" of their youth. The others (usually those in loving families) recover, gradually coming to understand that while the story never grows old, they do. Children always reach an age where they begin to separate the wondrous from reality as logic and rhetoric replaces imagination and faith. The fairies flee from their thoughts, followed by the pillaging pirates and ingenious Indians. The beautiful land of immeasurable chances fades while at long last the boy is…forgotten.
Brenna Taylor leaned back in the wicker chair, setting down her favourite black pen with the worn out grip and re-read her creation. Wrinkling up her nose in distaste, she snatched up a battered thesaurus, searching.
"Waiting…waiting…" she murmured, finger tracing across the page. There had to be another reasonable replacement for 'waiting'. It was too common a word; too easy to use.
"Aha!" Brenna smiled, scratching out the offensively repeated term and replacing it.
…captivated children for generations as each impatiently waits for his imminent arrival. Yet years of fruitless anticipation with open windows turn the magical conviction into sullen and bitter disappointment.
Feeling immensely pleased with herself Brenna glanced up at the slender black cat lounging on the top of her roll-top desk. With one eye open and his tail twitching slightly, Ace looked as though he was highly amused. Brenna mock scowled and flipped her long brown hair off her face.
"What are you laughing at Acey?" Hearing the affectionate tone the cat's ears perked up and both deep brown eyes peered directly at the smiling girl. Brenna reached forward and rumpled his downy head. Looking down at her watch she sighed. 6:30 A.M.
"Okay critter, time for me to get ready for…" Brenna trailed off as an inexcusably loud voice broke through the house.
"BRENNA! CHARLES!" Brenna rubbed her temples and shared an exasperated look with Ace, grinning when she heard a muffled oath through the wall in front of her. The trap door in the floor of the small landing outside her room opened with a bang as a vibrant, curly red head with sparkling green eyes poked through.
"Mornin' Mum." Brenna snapped her blue suede journal shut as her mother climbed into the loft, thinking for the thousandth time of how they looked nothing alike. Araminta Taylor-Greene had a personality as unique as her name with porcelain skin, plenty of curves and pretty pale pink lips; an outwardly stunning and mature Pippi Longstocking. She was an accomplished actress that preferred plays, always saying that live productions gave her the ability to be more creative and spontaneous. Brenna doubted there was ever a time her mum was not so. Minta (as she preferred to be known) leaned against the doorframe of her daughter's room and raised an eyebrow as she took in Brenna's dishevelled appearance.
"You don't want to be late for your first day back love." Brenna smiled, walking over to give her mother a loose hug before picking up some clean-ish clothes off her hardwood floor.
"Oh I'm fine," she grinned, "its Charlie you should be worrying about."
"Hmmm." Minta eyed the closed door next to Brenna's pensively. "Think I should open it? I'm picturing a Zoboomafoo's closet." Both of them burst out laughing; the door in question creaked open. Charlie Taylor poked his head out into the landing, squinting blankly at his mum and twin sister.
"Wazzgoin'on?" Minta and Brenna's laughter escalated as Charlie blinked, shook his head perplexedly and shut the door.
"Araminta!" Minta's face closed as she turned toward the open trap door.
"I'll have toast and eggs ready for you both in twenty." she said quietly and disappeared down into the hall below. Brenna sighed and waited a few moments before descending into the hall herself. The bathroom was the first door on the left, yet as she went inside, Brenna could hear her mum and stepfather arguing downstairs.