What? I'm alive? Just barely :) I'm on summer vacation from school now and quite honestly I haven't found much inspiration to write :( But this is something I found on my computer that I had worked on before I started school. I'm pretty proud of it but I'm not sure if I should continue it, especially with another story hanging on in hiatus back yonder. What do you guys think? Anyway, I've always really truly loved the live action movie of Peter Pan. This story concept popped into my head. Warning: may include some mild Wendy/Peter fluff if I decide to continue this. Enjoy :)
Michael Darling was at his football club meeting that evening. The rambunctious secondary schoolboy had also insisted that he stay over at a friend's house that night. John Darling had recently finished his preparatory school and. With his father's advice he had found a flat in the heart of London, and with his intellect he had already found an exceptional job in an accounting firm.
And then there was Wendy Darling. Wendy was long past her schooling years and chose to stay in her parents' home for the convenience and stability. She made her own way as the head governess in the orphanage close to the city. There wasn't school on the weekends, so Wendy was spending her evening looking through a window at home.
She sat in what used to be the nursery. It was a quiet place where she could think, alone, away from her mother, father, and occasional aunt. The nursery had been remodeled into an office for her and her brothers whenever they were home. However, their old toys still speckled the room. Jack-in-the-boxes and dollhouses sat in the one corner. Real metal swords that looked like great weapons once rested in a basket in another, rusty and dirty from the years of disuse. Next to the basket sat a teddy bear, his eyes looking to a time that already passed.
A setting light poured through the window that claimed a large portion of the wall. Wendy sat in a rocking chair next to the window, reading by the twilight. She sighed and looked into the horizon. Sometimes, when it was just quiet enough and she grew tired of her reading, her thoughts would bring her back to shadows of memories that may have been better forgotten. She remembered feelings and sensations that she didn't try to hold onto, only embracing them should they feel the necessity to overcome her.
Wendy sighed and went back to her book. She had to be prepared to teach a class on Monday. But as her eyes read over Oliver Cromwell, a bright yellow light streaked across the page. She blinked. The setting sun was playing tricks on her eyes. She stood up to light some candles. Again, a bright yellow light dashed past the corner of her eye. She turned to try to find the source of the distraction. She searched the Jack-in-the-boxes and dollhouse. Nothing. She continued toward the dresser, to find a candle for better light. She was reaching a hand to find a match when,
"AAAAHHH!"
A bright light burst before her eyes and struck her smartly on the nose. Shocked and temporarily blinded, Wendy stumbled backward and tripped into her rocking chair. She curled herself into a ball as the chair swung back and forth, and back and forth. When the rocking subsided, she slowly opened her eyes, saw what was hovering in front of her, and slammed them back shut. It was impossible. She peeked out under her lashes. Slowly, she took in the sight before her. There, clad in a tiny leaf green dress, with shining gold dust setting her aglow, was –
"Tinker Bell?" Wendy barely whispered. Surprisingly, the fairy heard her and flew in circles around the rocking chair. Standing up, Wendy started laughing a laugh she hadn't laughed since she could hardly remember. Tinker Bell continued to circle Wendy, showering her in fluorescent dust. Wendy felt sensational. She could almost feel her feet lifting off the floor until—
"Tinker Bell, where's Peter?"
The fairy stopped flying around, and from the look on her face, there wasn't good news to bear. Wendy immediately lost her laugh.
"He's not here, isn't he?" Wendy felt heavy on her feet. "Tinker Bell, what happened?"
The fairy began tinkling and chattering lively, but fairy was a language in which Wendy was definitely not fluent.
"I'm sorry, Tink," she apologized, "I don't quite understand." The fairy looked downhearted, but then brightened at the thought of an idea. She flew to the window and pointed toward the darkening sky – at a star. The second star to the right, and –
"Straight on 'til morning." Wendy understood immediately. She was at the edge of the window, touching the wooden sides, and peering at the sky above her. But then she turned around and looked at the room. She looked at her rocking chair, the one her mother used to sit in. She looked at the desks where their beds used to be. She looked at the swords that still rested in the basket.
"If only John and Michael were here," she wished. She turned around and stepped onto the edge of the window. Peering down, Wendy noticed that the ground was much farther below than she remembered. "It's really very easy," she convinced herself, "All you need is faith, trust," she closed her eyes, "and pixie dust." She could feel Tinker Bell flying and circling around her as she gave herself to the depths below.
Instead of pain, she felt wind against her face. She opened her eyes and saw the city shrink beneath her. She laughed. Oh, how it felt good to be free again. There were no restrictions, no rules, nothing that could keep her from flying into the night forever, except one very important thing. Wendy stopped in midair, searching frantically for the bright light that was her one and only guide. She gasped in relief as Tinker Bell shot into the air before her face, slightly pink with frustration. Wendy giggled a bit, but then turned serious.
"Alright, Tinker Bell, take me to him."
With that, Tinker Bell rushed toward the stars, aiming for the brightest one second from the right. Wendy knew what was on the other side of that morning. She was going back to the place, to the home that she never thought she would see again. Neverland.