Chapter 1 (Crazy Grandmas and Kidnapping)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of J.M Barrie's work much to my dismay…
It had all happened before, in many parts of the world and never in the same place except this once. For the second time in many years the darling house would be payed a visit from neverland. This time though, it wouldn't be Wendy who would be visited, it would be her great granddaughter. The very same great-granddaughter in fact who now stood in front of the shabby two story house carrying a basket filled with loafs of fresh bread.
Her face was set in the expression of grimness that one comes across when encountered with a scummy bathtub that was in dire need of cleaning. She heaved a sigh and marched determinably to the front door. She hesitated for a moment and then rang the doorbell. A few moments later footsteps made there way towards her from behind the door. A look of horror filled her visage and decided to make a run for it when the door opened.
'Oh! My Gwendolyn has finally arrived!' The old lady at the door cried.
The old woman made a dive at the teen named Quendolyn before her whilst being fended off with the basket of bread. Unfortunately for Gwendolyn, the old woman managed to suffocate her in a bear hug, strip her of her coat, boots, and bread basket, plus make her feel guilty with a 'I haven't seen you since you were two! Why haven't you visited me sooner?' all in the span of five seconds.
'Anyway,' the old woman said breathlessly, 'It's lovely to have you here, Gwen.'
"Likewise Grandma Wendy." Gwen said politely.
Grandma Wendy looked disapproving as if to say, "Is that the best you can come up with?" but her warm smile soon appeared as she announced that it was far to late and she'd better be off to bed.
Gwen was practically frogmarched to the nursery which was rather spacious and was occupied by three beds, all of them made for small children and not someone of her stature.
"Now, if you need anything else, I'm on the hall to your left, three doors down."
"Thank you grandma Wendy, I'm sure I'll be very comfortable, thank you." Gwen replied steadily.
Grandma Wendy gave her a small frown and then said quite ominously, "Remember to keep the window open or else."
Gwen frowned in return, "Why would I keep it open? Wouldn't it be safer if I shut it?"
"No, child. Don't close that window or else Peter won't be able to fly through and He'll come."
Gwen remembered what mother had said about grandma's hallucinations of a flying boy named Peter, pirates, and natives of some bizarre land called AlwaysLand or something so she quickly assured Wendy that the window would be open. The old lady left and Gwen closed the hook shaped clasp that kept the window shut with the thoughts of unpractised home security racing through her mind.
"Loony old geezer." Gwen muttered as she returned to putting away her things in a trunk of one of the beds and placed a hand gun she "borrowed" from her father's closet under the bed but in reach if she needed it. London, she surmised before she left, is a dangerous place. With that thought in mind, she noticed that on the headboard there were the words "I am Michael" shoddily scratched in.
"No, you are not Michael…you are a bed that I'm going to sleep in." Gwen told it.
A moment later she smacked her palm to her head, "Since when did I talk to beds…I must be going crazy just being in here."
Her mother's voice filled her head, "No, Gwen, you will not go crazy! And I don't want to hear another complaint about Granny Wendy or anything about London out of you! You're only going to stay there for a year until I sort things out here at home."
"Yah right," Gwen snorted whilst falling back on the small bed, "sort things out…I don't think so.
The wind banged against the window and the lights flickered. A storm was brewing and Gwen thought of the normally opened window in weather like there was sure to be. Ridiculous.
"You know what mom?" Gwen said aloud to the room as she changed into her blue pyjamas, "You won't be able to sort things out. You and Dad will get into another stupid fight over some drugs and then you'll end up dead. And you know it. That's why I'm here, isn't it. You fucking know it…."
And with that Gwen drifted off to sleep in the cramped bed with a scowl upon her face
Gwen awoke to the feeling of wind across her face. "Damn!" she muttered "the old woman must have opened the window once I had drifted off. What a psycho!" She slipped out of bed and swore as her feet hit the cold floor. Out of habit she grabbed her handgun from underneath the bed as she went to close the window. The hook clasp was right side up and she quickly went to close it once again when a cloth was clamped around her mouth. She breathed in sharply and inhaled the substance that coated it. She was out in a few hazy seconds.
Author Note: I hope you enjoyed the story thus far and review as I'm in desperate need of constructive criticism and support. Please notify me if you find any errors! Cheers!