Mothers.
Neverland let out a sigh. Literally, the massive island full of Indian's and pirates and elves and pixies and fire and ice, sighed. The great retired volcano sighed. Neverland was a heaven to anyone who set foot on its soil. Promising adventure and beauty at ever turn…but it was lacking something. Today, something just didn't feel right.
Deep in the jungle, a place unknown to almost anyone but few Indian's and the darlings, Tootles, Slightly, Nibs, Curly, The twin's and Peter Pan, crowded round the gently dying fire, staring Blankley up at the black blue sky, speckled with glittering diamonds. The moon round and big watched them, which looked fed up too. The whole of Neverland knew something was missing. It was in the wind, in the air, in the tree's and in the sky. And it was Tootles who figured it out.
Sitting round the campfire, huddled in a bundle, trying to keep warm. Everybody felt that little out of place. Like a mischievous elf had moved something inside them. They felt….
Empty.
"The thing about mothers." Started Tootles. "Is that they always want you clean." Surprisingly Peter remained silent. The mention of mothers seemed to stir something in him. And it wasn't good. Reluctantly Curly agreed, "Spick and span, it's much more fun not having baths all the time. I'm glad we don't have any mothers anymore." The words rang through Neverland like the most powerful bullet ever made. Ringing in their heads, getting louder and louder, like a wasp on a summer's day during a picnic. It ruined everything because it wasn't wanted. Peter stood up. The flames burned brighter and it danced faster. Rage glistened in his perfect sea like eyes, but he simply got up and went inside the tree. His footsteps echoing eerily.
"But they do love you and give you kisses." Said one Twin.
"And tuck you in at night." Said the other.
"And they help you out and give you advice." Said Nibs.
"And they help you up when you feel sad." Said Tootles
"And when everybody's against you they'll always be loyal I guess…" Said Slightly.
Then,-nobody knows who said it—but someone uttered the five words that should never be spoken out of pure respect.
"Maybe we should go back…"
"GO BACK?" Roared a voice. It was so powerful, the fire blew out with a jerk and the birds scattered and fled to the sky, the moon hid behind the clouds and the clouds huddled together, the sea leapt, and the wolves hid in their den's and the Indian's and the pirates felt shivers run down their spines as the one and only child muttered a word so awful it visited the boys in their nightmares.
"TRAITOR!" snarled Peter. His blond hair thrashing wildly and he drew his blade and pointed it at Tootles. The blade glinted in the moonlight and everyone was dead still, like some horrible wax scene.
"Mothers." Spat Peter. He put his blade back. "Good for nothing. "A deadly silence wrapped itself around the troop like a horribly tight blanket. "You would go back, and they'd love you…obviously. But then they would send you to school, then another school, then college, then university, then you'll end up in an office. A grown up. Boring, married, with kids, a dog, a stupid dull life. You want that? Then go ahead. Leave. Just don't expect me to welcome you back." And with that, he stormed back to the tree. Sucking the life of the party with him.
Nobody slept that night. Nobody in Neverland. And deep down, each of the lost boys knew that if they ever did go back to their mothers, than they would end up like that, and that Peter would never let them back. Nobody left. But even deeper down, each one of them wanted a mother, even Peter, but that was one adventure from which he will forever be without, as the mocking boy is as stubborn as a goat, but deep down inside, as gentle as a dove.
And that is the thing about mothers.
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