Hey.
So, I watched both the Disney films about Peter Pan, the 2003 film and read the original book recently and this idea just came into my head. What if Peter had another best friend other than Tinkerbell? What if she was a girl? This is NOT a romance Peter/OC story. It is purely adventure/friendship.
Summary: The story of my OC Sophie. Obviously she will go to Neverland but what adventures will she have? How does Peter feel about a girl that can do everything he can? This is Sophie's story.
Disclaimer: This goes for all chapters. I do not own anything from the many adaptations of Peter Pan. If I did, well I wouldn't be sat here writing my story on a FanFic website. It would already be part of the original story.
Oh and just so you know I will be basing the characters from the 2003 film.
…...
Chapter 1
The Girl He Met in the Garden
Most stories like this start with the words once upon a time… but not this one, for, eventually time will not matter to her, it won't even exist.
Our story starts in a nineteenth century old English orphanage, the kind where it is almost always cold, cobwebs hang from the ceilings and most of the children who are unfortunate enough to experience the ghastly place often choose a criminal life on the streets of London rather than to suffer that fate. But of course Sophie could not choose to just leave; she was young, seven years old to be precise, so she just lived there, not realising that things could be any better. Being young also meant being naïve. The older children at the orphanage pitied her, she was the one who was left on the doorstep at just a few days old and everyone figured that if her mother left her to a place like this then, surely, she must have hated the child.
For such a young girl, Sophie was smart and she had these insecurities too, but she would never voice them, which would make them more real, she liked to believe that one day her mother would come for her, and she really did believe it. Like I said - naïve.
The orphanage wasn't really an orphanage, more like a workhouse; each of the children had chores. Mrs Beales, the owner told them that this was to build character, but Sophie knew that it was to ensure that they had no time to play, to be children. Mrs Beales was a terrible specimen of a woman. Grey, wispy hair that she always, always had in a bun with a white maids cap plonked on top, flushed, sweaty skin that never seemed to stop blushing, the kind of teeth that made people cringe, they were black and yellow and were a warning sign that ensured you knew that her breath ponged before you ever smelt it yourself. Everyday, she wore a long black dress that covered every inch of her plump body from the shoulders down apart from her hands where the fingernails were dirty and chipped. A stained apron was tied around her waist most of the time and she continually wiped her clammy hands on it.
Mrs Beales did not much care for children; she was only an orphanage owner because the rich families in the neighbourhood tended to take pity on the orphans and donate money, thinking that it was going to the establishment when really it was falling straight into Mrs Beales' greedy pockets. Another reason that she made the children do chores was simply because she was a lazy woman who liked to have power, to be in charge.
On this cold winter night is where Sophie's adventures began. Her chore is to scrub the floors and at this precise moment she was cleaning the kitchen, which is also where the backdoor of the house is. On her hands and knees she moved the scrubbing brush back and forth, back and forth in the soapy water that was puddled on the floor.
She noticed her reflection in the water, as she always did, and wondered if she looked like her mother, childishly, she lifted one of her hands from the floor and tucked her blonde curls behind her ears but there was still her fringe in her face. Sticking her bottom lip out, she blew upward so that the fine bits of hair flew away from her eyes. Now studying her eyes in her reflection she tried to imagine her mother. Did she have the same clear blue eyes, fringed with long lashes that were the envy of most girls and women? The same fair skin? The same button nose? The more Sophie tried to imagine her mother the more her mind went blank about her. This frustrated Sophie to no end and her rose peach-pink lips pouted.
Sitting back on her knees, she looked towards the back door. Maybe she could slip out into the fresh air for five minutes without being caught. As soon as the idea of taking a break came into her head, she couldn't talk herself out of it as she had never been an obedient child; Mrs Beales knew this and frequently came to check on her. She stood up and crept over to the door and slowly and carefully peaked around the small gap that was open. Eyeing the long, dimly lit hallway there was no one there and she could see the front door at the other end. Smiling to herself she turned around and ran across the kitchen, completely forgetting in her haste about the water on the floor. As soon as she heard the splash of her boot in it and began skidding forward she cringed and scrunched her eyes up waiting for the blow that would surely come.
But it didn't and she screeched to a stop behind the door. She slowly opened her eyes for fear that someone had heard the screech or splash and would come to check on her. After a few seconds no one did and she grinned.
Surely now nothing could stop her from her five minutes of freedom. But it did, the door was locked. Frowning, she started to return back to her work until a light breeze blew through the kitchen making Sophie's hair dance into her face. Turning around to find the source, she saw that the window was open. Seeing her chance, she pulled over a chair from the table and stood on it. She swung both legs over and sat on the ledge, before she jumped she looked down, she was on the ground floor of course and the distance to the ground would have been fine for a child of twelve or thirteen but Sophie was not twelve or thirteen, not even close, she was only seven.
Even though it seemed high to her she was brave and she jumped anyway. It turned out it was too high for her and when her feet hit the ground her legs gave way and her hands hit the floor too. She quickly got over the shock of falling and turned her hands over to see that her palms were grazed. Rustling in the bushes opposite her startled and immediately distracted her. She stood up with her back against the wall, forgetting her injured hands.
"Who's there?" She questioned courageously.
No answer.
Sophie would never suspect what actually was in the bushes, for she had never seen one. In the bushes was a fairy, by the name of Tinkerbell. But it wasn't just in the bushes that someone was watching her; above her there was a boy, floating effortlessly, looking down at her. When he heard the bushes rustle, he looked to them as well, to see if Tink had appeared.
"I am not afraid." The girl spoke again.
This confused the boy and made him smile mockingly. To him, the girl appeared so small and defenceless. She was outside in the cold and the dark, knowing that there was a stranger concealed in the bushes in front of her. Of course, Tink could not harm this child; the girl was small but the fairy was smaller. But the girl did not know that what was in the bushes was a fairy. For all she knew, it could be a grown up. Maybe she would be more scared if she knew there was a flying boy above her.
At this thought he slowly came down and landed in front of her. When she first noticed him her eyes grew wide and her mouth formed a small 'O'. Misinterpreting her awed expression for fear, he raised his hands up, palms toward her.
"Don't be afraid, I am Peter Pan." He said, half reassuring, half proud and finishing by placing his hands on his hips, as he regularly did.
"I'm not afraid of anything." Sophie said defiantly but still smiling. "And I am Sophie Johnson." She replied, curtsying. Sophie was not afraid of Peter. She was the kind of child who did not know fear as well as she should, she was the curious kind.
The fact that she truly was not frightened of him offended Peter for some reason and he taunted her. "That's a boring name." He said bluntly, folding his arms and looking away.
This did not have the desired affect on her and she continued to smile. "It's not my real name. Well, Sophie is but not Johnson." She explained matter of factly and proceeded to explain to him that she had no last name because her mother had left her here temporarily but did not tell Mrs Beales her last name so Mrs Beales had named her Sophie Johnson.
Peter was a little disinterested with the story of how Sophie got her name and began to walk to the bushes where Tinkerbell was hiding. Sophie followed behind him.
"Tink?" He called. "You can come out now."
Then the little ball of light that was Tinkerbell came speeding out of the bushes.
Sophie gasped. "Oh, a fairy! How magical."
Peter smiled at that and Tinkerbell came right up to Sophie's face as if to inspect her then flew back to Peter and hovered beside his head. "This is Tinkerbell." Peter introduced.
"That's a beautiful name." Sophie complimented and if you looked close enough you could see Tinkerbell blush.
"Why did you say your mother left you here temporarily?" Peter asked Sophie as she continued to gaze at the fairy in wonder.
"Because she's coming back for me."
"How long have you been here?" He questioned.
"Since I was a baby."
"Then how do you know?"
She looked at Peter now and realised that he was several inches taller than her. Knowing what question he was asking her she changed the subject. "How old are you?"
Peter frowned, "I don't know." He had never really thought about it before, he knew he was quite young but not as young as the girl before him. To look at Peter you would think he was about thirteen, maybe almost fourteen. However, he wasn't mature enough to be fourteen.
"Oh. Because you must be a lot older than me. I mean look how tall you are." She pointed out.
Peter did not like the word older so he decided to repeat his previous question. "How do you know that your mother is coming back for you?"
"I just do."
"But how do you know?" He repeated.
This was a sore subject for Sophie because she did not know that her mother was coming back. The truth was, she knew absolutely nothing about her mother except that she left her on the cold doorstep of the orphanage seven years ago. But she did not dare admit that to Peter. She told him she wasn't afraid of anything but she knew if he kept asking about her mother she might cry but, nevertheless she held his gaze.
Tinkerbell was watching the exchange from Peter's shoulder and wondered why Peter was pressing the subject of the girl's mother. She knew of course how he felt about mothers, but even she could see that he was clearly upsetting the small child.
When she didn't answer he tried another question. "Why would she leave you here when you were a baby if she was coming back for you?"
Sophie's eyes faltered and she looked at her feet.
Seeing this, Peter realised how small she really was compared to him and that she must have been a lot younger than he was. He immediately felt guilty and crouched to the floor to look at her face. "How old are you, Sophie?" He asked, if only for something to say to distract her.
"Seven." She answered.
She still looked sad so he tried again. "Don't feel bad. I'm an orphan too you know?"
"You are?" She asked timidly, still not looking at him.
"Yeah." He nodded.
Still looking at her feet she asked, "Where do you live?"
"Me? I live in Neverland, where you never have to grow up." He smiled excitedly.
"Really?" She looked up now and Peter grinned.
"Yep. There are fairies," when Peter said this Tinkerbell flew up to Sophie as if to prove his point and affectionately pinched her nose, "mermaids, Indians, Pirates!" Peter described standing up and gesturing with his hands. Sophie hung on his every word; her eyes now alight with wonder and excitement.
"Wow! Peter, you're so lucky!" She gasped.
Peter smiled and shrugged his shoulders proudly.
"Sophie Johnson! Where are you girl?" Mrs Beales could be heard from inside.
Peter unsheathed his dagger at the shrill, angry voice.
"Oh no!" Sophie cried.
"What's wrong? Who is that?" Peter asked.
"Mrs Beales. I'm not supposed to be out here. Quick, Peter you have to hide!" She begged him worriedly.
The rattle of the keys in the lock could be heard and Sophie turned around horrified. When she turned back toward the bushes Peter was still there, grinning mischievously and eyeing the open window he had watched Sophie climb out of.
"Come on." Peter grabbed her arm and dragged her to the window.
"Peter, what are you doing?" She asked frantically.
"Keeping you out of trouble." He answered.
When Mrs Beales finally opened the back door he lifted Sophie to the window and understanding his plan she climbed through.
Peter and Tinkerbell had already flown away before the old hag could see them. She strode around the garden looking for the girl she was sure had to be out here.
When Sophie landed inside on the kitchen floor she knew Mrs Beales would not believe that she had been there the whole time and the old woman simply had not seen her in her haste. So she thought of a lie. She must've gone to the bathroom just before Mrs Beales came to check on her. Though angry, Mrs Beales swallowed up the lie and sent the little girl to bed.
That night when Sophie was fast asleep, Peter found her window so he would know where to go if he intended to visit the girl he met in the garden again.
…..
So, that was chapter one…
I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read this and a review would be much appreciated. Let me know what you think.