Second Choice
A/N: Not mine. Based off of the 2003 movie. But Jeremy Sumpter = MINE!
Anna carefully arranged the brunette curls on Jessie's pale porcelain forehead, singing softly to her. A song of fairies and wonders, comforting to Anna's own ears. The song her father used to sing her, a faint memory playing at the corners of her 12 year old mind. Gently and slowly, she lifted the doll and pulled back the covers to her bed. She slipped into it, Jessie-Doll pressed into her side, her cool porcelain face buried in Anna's warm neck. Anna burrowed her face deep into her pillow, cuddling the doll close, breathing in the sweet, fresh smell of the laundry, the good work the maids did at cleaning this giant house, belonging to Sir Edward Quillarcooch, her grandfather, the manager of the local bank. Jessie had been a present from him, even; now she rubbed the lace edge of the doll's baby pink silk gown between her two fingers and sang a song gently under her breath.
Creak.
Creak.
Creak.
...
'Uh oh,' Anna thought, snuggling into the pillow and feigning sleep, breathing deeply and evenly, just as a narrow crack of light speared the darkness surrounding her and fell across her face. She could hear Grandmother talking to her new tutor, who was to start to teach her manners and how to be a true lady.
"Ready to grow up, this one is."
"She'll get a fine, rich man, she will."
"Of course, with you teaching her."
The door creaked shut and clicked gently as the tumblers fell into place. Anna turned angrily onto her back so that the tears that were slowly welling in her aqua eyes wouldn't spill onto her pillow.
'I mustn't cry. Grandmother always says to be a big girl and not cry.' But grow up? Who wanted to grow up? Definitely not her. What was she to do? She sat up slowly in bed, smoothing her nightgown over her chest and twisting her hair into a knot and tossing it over her left shoulder. She stood and walked to the window, sat on the plush seat, and stared.
The sky was an inky blue, the color of the indigo ink in the ink pot that Anna dipped her quill in at school. To write about paltry things. And to cross-stitch. She hated to cross-stitch, although she was said to be very talented at it. She often wrote her own small songs in the margins of her notebook. To sing later to Jessie. She sang one now, a song of loss and sadness, looking deep into the star dotted sky, as though looking for a deeper meaning.
A shooting star.
No, not a shooting star. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw... well... a FACE.
A tiny face, but a face nonetheless.
And a boy! A boy had just flown out of the nursery at the Darling's! Anna knew them; she occasionally went over to play with Wendy. But a boy, flying out her window! It had happened the other night as well; Anna only thought it as her imagination then, but now that she saw it again, she didn't know what to think.
And her own window burst open, a small gust of wind blowing in and dropping leaves on the floor. Anna jumped up and back in surprise. She stood, mouth gaping, at the boy clad completely in skeleton leaves, fists on his hips, grinning widely.
"Hullo, girl! I am Peter Pan!"
A/N: R/R would be nice. Flames encouraged, I wanna toast some weenies! XD