vWendy Lawrence & her sister Amanda are two 16 yr old girls, both affected by their parents divorce they have two different perspectives of life. One a pretty, prim, prissy (almost) and the other a rebellious teen completely the opposite to her twin. Both fascinated by the classic story of Peter Pan a secret wish is made by both girls - but what happens when some one hears that wish?

WARNING this contains some coarse language not suitable for those under fifteen years old.

DISCLAIMER I do not own any of the original Peter Pan characters or for that matter anything to do with Peter Pan except for this story and my own characters.

Chapter one – the Lawrence sisters

"Wendy Darling knew it was time for her to grow up, even though she didn't want to she knew she had too. She waved to Peter from her window for the last time and whispered 'Goodnight' then turned on her heels and went over to help her mother with the Lost Boys. That was the last time she ever saw Peter Pan," Mrs. Amelia Lawrence took a breath and closed the picture book then look down at her two daughters sitting on her lap. They were no older than 6 and identical twins. Amelia marvelled at her two little blessings, both alike. Their wavy honey brown hair, their sparkling blue almond eyes, their rosy-red cheeks and lips, their little hands and feet, their pearly white teeth and little ears, down to their little pink nightgowns and their small button noses. Amelia loved her daughters more than any other person could love them. She named them Wendy and Amanda, two peas in a pod.

"Mummy why did Wendy never see Peter Pan again?" asked Wendy, she was the curious child and always had a fascination with stories in particular Peter Pan. She loved to read well, look at books. She was much like her father, sure to be academic.

"Because he stopped coming to her window to listen to her stories. He just flew back to Neverland and lived with Tinkerbell, and tried to forget about Wendy Darling. But I am sure that he would never forget her," said Amelia as she put the book on the ground next to her rocking chair. Wendy then hopped off her mothers lap as she could see that her twin was sound asleep and her mother would have to carry her over to her bed. The girls slept in the nursery of the old house. The walls were an array of colour and the beds were white with fly nets around them. Not that the girls needed them in England but they had them. In fact the Lawrence's lived in the house that was said to have belonged to the Darlings, the Darlings from the story of Peter Pan. But know one was quite sure because it was a very long time ago and the Darling family had to move out of the small Edwardian town house after the Lost Boys were adopted into the family. But Amelia had kept the little fact about the previous owners of the house to herself; as she didn't want to get her daughters (one in particular) hopes up about a certain flying boy coming back to the house.

"If Peter Pan ever came to our window and said that he would take me away to Neverland I would go and stay there! Not come home like that silly Wendy Darling," said Wendy as she climbed into her bed. Amelia tucked her other child into bed and kissed her forehead then came over to Wendy and sat on her bed.

"But my darling, if you were to go away to Neverland I would be terribly heartbroken, I mean I would lose my precious baby girl and I could never let that happen! And think about your sister she would be all alone," said Amelia as she tucked Wendy into bed and kissed her on the forehead, "No you cannot go away to Neverland, it would be too horrible!"

"Alright mummy I won't," said Wendy innocently as her mother got up to turn off the light, "Mummy keep the night-lights on it is scary without them. I love you mummy and will never leave you," said the child as she began to drift off into a deep, wonderful sleep. Amelia turned on the night-lights and closed the door.

10 years later

"God I wish I could get away from this hell hole," muttered Wendy as she passed her plate over to her mother giving her an evil look. Wendy hated America.

The Lawrence sister moved to America not long after Amelia and her husband David got divorced. It was devastating for the two girls as they were 11 years old when the divorce took place. Amelia wanted desperately to go back to America and took her daughters with her. David was allowed the twins during the holidays and over long weekends if they wanted to go. Naturally the girls wanted to see their father so every holiday they would fly over to England and stay in the house that they grew up in, the Darling house.

The girls were deeply affected by the divorce, the once athletic Amanda became obsessed with boys and watching sport, she became the typical blond who was in love with her daddy's plastic. Wendy on the other hand became rebellious, out there, into rock music (made her mother and father buy her a set of drums and an electric guitar each so that she could have one at her permanent resident and one at her fathers house) the complete opposite of the academic genius her parents thought she would be and a 16 year old girl with a criminal record. But one thing about Amanda stayed the same, she loved to horse ride, she had loved it ever since she was a child and now was a regional champion. Wendy also kept the same fascination with fairy tale stories and reading. She never did any work just read all the time and she still loved the story of Peter Pan. She also loved to paint.

Every day that she stayed with her father she went to Kensington gardens and sat for an hour reading in front of the statue of Peter Pan. She wished that the boy who never grew up would come and take her away from her messed up life to a place where dreams came true and she would never have to worry about growing up. She even left her window in their four-bedroom penthouse apartment open at night hoping that Peter Pan would come and take her away. She looked like she was growing up, a developed body, drivers licence, but really she was just a child.

Now Wendy and Amanda were always getting mistaken for one another, as they look exactly alike, this infuriated Wendy, as she wanted to be someone different. She had tried so many things to make herself look different. But students at the high school they went to still mixed them up. So Wendy went out and got her hair permanently straightened as well as died auburn. She also got a new wardrobe, the brightest colour being a single sky blue shirt and the rest black, brown or navy blue. Not to mention a nametag saying 'My name is Wendy don't get me mixed up with my sister or I will punch the living daylight out of you'.

"Wendy take that badge off it is horrible," said Amelia as she packed the dishwasher after the three women had eaten dinner.

"Why I tells people who I am," snapped Wendy, she really didn't like her mother. She leaned back in her chair and flung her feet onto the table, not considering anything to do with hygiene as she still had her black skate board shoes on.

"Oh Wendy, what's so bad about being mistaken for me? I mean I am so popular and have the best dress sense, unlike you," said Amanda looking at her sister who was wearing a black T-shirt with 'I went to Princess school' written in white with the word 'princess' crossed out in red and 'Bitch' written on the top. She also was wearing baggy cargo pants with a camouflage print and a black leather belt. Her shoulder-blade length auburn hair was tied into two low ponytails with a black trucker hat rammed onto her head. Not to mention her pair of dice studs in her ears and assortment of studded black bands around her wrists, black nails polish and silver rings.

"Exactly why can't you be more like your sister? She is so well behaved – some thing you should learn to be. Independence is not always a good thing," said Amelia. She and Wendy had previously had the argument before. Amelia thought that Wendy was too radical, and forward thinking. In a nutshell to independent, it scared Amelia. Wendy on the other hand hated reformitary and she was always trying to break away. She believed in different things, she thought differently, had different views on society. This was what made her and Amelia clash.

"I prefer to be my own woman Min, not a prissy like you," she said looking her sister over. She was dressed in a tartan mini-skirt with black fuck me boots and a stylish black halter neck. With her honey brown hair pulled back into a scrunch bun, her face pilled on with make-up, silver hoops dangling from her ears and a silver bangle around her wrist. A look of sadness swept over Amanda's face, it made Wendy feel sad too. She flung her feet off the table much to her mothers delight and turned to Amanda, "Oh Min I didn't mean it like that. I am sorry, you aren't a prissy your Min! You are a wonderful 16 years old and you my sister that is even better! I just don't want to be the same as you, get it?" and I don't want to do what mum says, Wendy thought as she laid her hand on her sister's shoulder, she really did love her.

"Yeah I get it," she said and excused herself and walked over to the TV room. A pang of guilt flowed through Wendy, she hated it when she made her sister upset. She never meant too it was just she wasn't as strong hearted or tough as most of the people that Wendy knew. Wendy got up too, not excusing herself leaving her mother in the kitchen to clean up all by herself.

"Those girls," Amelia muttered to herself as she pilled the plates into the dishwasher. Wendy walked through the TV room when Amanda sat. Amanda had her back to Wendy so in a hope to surprise her and make her feel better Wendy crept up behind her and hugged her around the shoulders and kissed her cheek. Amanda smiled and forgave her sister she knew she never really meant anything she said.

"Sit with me, the 2004 version of Peter Pan is on. Isn't it like your favourite movie?" said Amanda turning around to face her sister but Wendy shook her head.

"Not today Mandy, I have a canvas to finish for art. I mean I could do it tomorrow during maths, the teachers never notice that I am gone," she said sitting on the arm of the couch nearest Amanda.

"You know you should really stop cutting class, soon mum is going to find out and you will be in big trouble. Anyway math is an important subject," she said in a matter-of-factly tone; Wendy rolled her blue eyes.

"But it is oh so boring! And Mr. Curtis makes it even worse!" said Wendy crossing her arms.

"You are right Mr. Curtis is a foul gorilla like dickhead who watches girls when they change after sport," Amanda shuddered.

"Too right you are there sister, but lucky for you, you don't have him as a teacher. Smart one," said Wendy slumping down on the couch beside Amanda.

"Yeah but I see him all the time. I swear whenever I have a substitute teacher he is there, like her follows me. And I see him all the time after school – freaky," she said shuddering again.

"Me and JJ have all these plans to kill him, so far most of them have failed due to the fact that Mrs. Print has found the weapons that we planned to use in our lockers and confiscated them not to mention gave us both a weeks worth of detention," said Wendy with a sigh counting how many plans the two had come up with, about 22. JJ was her best friend (after her sister); he lived a couple of blocks away from them.

"Oh can I help! Mrs. Print loves me she would never suspect me for having anything to do with a murder attempt," Amanda said evilly, Wendy laughed.

"Alright, if the next stage in plan 23 goes ahead you can help out," just then the add break on the TV finished and the movie began. Wendy could quote almost the entire thing she loved Peter Pan so much. She sat and watched the pictures come onto the screen then snapped out of her gaze, "I have to go finish this canvas, if mum asks for me tell her I am busy expressing my creativity and should not be disturbed or I will drop art classes because I have lost all inspiration and that I shall blame her and she will wreak the consequences," Amanda nodded at her sisters remark then turned back to the TV. Wendy got up from the couch and walked up the spiral staircase and turned into her room.

Her room wasn't big, just big enough for a double bed, desk, chest of drawers, a book self, a thousand dollar sound system as jet black drum kit and an electric guitar with its stand and amplifier. You couldn't see the floor because it was covered completely in clothing and neither could you see that the wall colour was white because it was plastered with posters, paintings Wendy had done, photos (some colour some black and white) and other places where Wendy had gotten so mad that she decided to throw paint onto the wall. There was also the odd piece of material pinned to the wall too making it look very interesting. But on the ceiling it was completely different.

Not many people looked up at the ceiling but if you did you would be surprised. Compared to all the other rebellious teenage junk that was in the room the ceiling was like a sigh of relief and the opposite of everything else. Painted on the ceiling was a scene from Wendy's favourite childhood story, Peter Pan. She had painted it herself a year after she, her mother and her sister had moved to America. She was starting to become rebellious, and painted it without her mother's permission. It was a beautiful scene of Peter and Wendy at mermaid lagoon with the pirate ship, the Jolly Rodger in the background. The sun was setting so the sky was painted a beautiful orangey-pink colour and the water was a deep blue with the reflection of the setting sun on it. Wendy wished she were like Wendy Darling. She wished she had been taken to Neverland to be a mother to the Lost Boys, fight pirates, dance with Indians, live in the Neverland forest with the Fairies, fall in love with Peter and make him fall in love with her. That was her dream but as she grew older she realized that her dream would never come true for starters there was no such person called Peter Pan the boy who never grew up and he would never find her.

Wendy looked up at her ceiling and let out a long heavy sigh then closed the door behind her and waded through her sea of clothes and other junk on the floor to a door at the other end of the room. This door leads into her studio. It was a big open room with a large window and balcony on the far side, a sketching desk in the corner with pencils, charcoal, rubbers and sharpeners in cups, with sketch books completely filled and bursting with drawing and paintings underneath the desk and an open one on the desk. In the middle of the room was Wendy's easel and on it was the painting that she was working on. Lined up along the wall was canvas upon canvas that she had painted. There was also a trolley with different shelves filled with almost every colour of paint imaginable, with brushes everywhere, a cup of water on the top and a paint pallet on top too. There was also a small bookshelf where she kept her art textbooks or art books that she bought, there were also some CD's and other sketch books in there. Next to her easel was a small black CD player. Wendy kept this room clean and no one else was allowed in here.

She walked over to her window and opened it. She stepped out onto the balcony and looked over the city. The family lived in a penthouse apartment, which over looked Chicago city. It was close to Amelia's work but the girls had to catch two buses to get to their school in the suburbs. It was an autumn evening and a cool breeze blew the white curtains in the studio. Wendy marvelled at the cities beauty at night. All the lights were being turned on; it was the perfect time for her to start painting. She was assigned to paint a canvas that showed the urban environment. Wendy thought any child could do that, but she was going to paint was she was assigned to paint none the less. She sat down to paint and just as she made one stroke her mother stormed in.

"I promised me you wouldn't and you broke you promise," she said storming over to her daughter staring down at her.

"What have I done wrong?" asked Wendy frustrated; all inspiration was gone now.

"I just got a phone call from your year coordinator, Mrs. Print," scummy bitch, Wendy thought as her mother mentioned the name, "She said that you haven't been turning up for class," Wendy turned away from her mother and continued painting, "Listen to me Wendy Ashley Lawrence," said Amelia annoyed as she grabbed her daughters chin and turned her head, "You have been missing three out of six classes a day, what do you do child?" she said letting go of Wendy's chin.

"Why do you care?" said Wendy, she almost spat at her mother.

"Because I am your mother and I have a right to know and a right to care," Amelia said crossing her arms as Wendy got up off her stool and walked over to the door opening it to its full extent.

"No mother you don't care, you don't give a shit about me. All you are concerned about is you and your appearance and having me as your rouge daughter doesn't suit you does it? Doesn't suit your public appearance? Well if I am such a problem for you I will leave! So will you do me the honours of getting out of my studio, out of my room and out of my life!" she yelled, she had just reached boiling point. Her mother was making her go over the top and she started to let out all the anger that she had kept locked up inside her for so many years, but not quite all of it. Her yelling caused Amanda to come up the stairs and peep into through Wendy's bedroom door to see what all the yelling was about. "I am not like you mother, when will you realise? I don't want to be like Amanda perfect in every way. I am an artist, I am an independent thinker, I am me not you. Why do you want to live through me, why do you want to tell me what to think or do?"

"News flash hunny, I am your mother! Until you are old enough to look after yourself you are to live under this house under my rules and that means that you are to go to class. I can tell you what to think and how to live because I am your mother. And no my image is not perfect and you causing a problem with my image the problem is that you are ruin your chance in life and I am not going to let that happen. You have done this before. Missed school go out to parties when you are not supposed too, you have gone all rebellious. What happened to my sweet baby?" said Amelia her voice quivering as she shook her finger at Wendy.

"She left a long time ago mother. So you want me to have a good life? Well if you want me to have a good life," she paused, "Then let me go," said Wendy almost pleading.

"I am your mother, and I will not let you go," said Amelia towering over Wendy.

"Fuck you, you bitch," Wendy seethed.

"What did you say?" said Amelia with utter disbelief that her own daughter, her precious child would ever say anything so disgusting and hurtful.

"I said FUCK YOU, YOU BITCH! Since we moved here you have made my life a living hell. I wish that instead of living here I lived with dad in London. Maybe I will go and live there because news flash I am old enough to look after myself and living here is going to drive me insane. And do you want to know why it will drive me insane? It's because I have to live with you. I HATE YOU!" Wendy yelled and with that Amelia placed her hand up to her chest and began to breath hard. She couldn't believe it; her daughter had said such a horrible thing. She walked out of the room, through the bedroom and past Amanda who was in tears. She walked up the hall and into her master bedroom. Lay down on the bed and cried.

Wendy hung her head, her eyes stung with hot tears. Why had she said that? She knew her mother would crumble easily and she had made her crumble but why? For what purpose did she say that? Was it to prove that she was better than her mother? She had never had a fight with her mother like the one that she just had. BUIt it was true her mother was trying to live through her and Amanda. She was trying to wreak their lives, she would never let them go. Wendy slid down the wall and sat on the floor. Her knees were brought up to her chest and her head rested on them with her arms wrapped around her legs. Amanda walked into where her sister sat and sat down beside her. She laid her head on Wendy's shoulder and wrapped her arms around her sister's body and sobbed. Wendy didn't protest; she felt like she was complete when her sister was around. The twins cried together.



The next week was awkward for the family. Amanda felt like she was being forced to take sides and Amelia and Wendy didn't speak to each other. Wendy had been banned from using almost everything in the house, the TV, her CD player, her drums, guitar, she was grounded for two months, she wasn't allowed to use the phone and she wasn't allowed into her studio. This was most detrimental to Wendy but she did it anyway, she knew that her mother had power over her whether she liked it or not. But she did sneak into her studio at night and painted. Her painting became dark and mysterious. She painted magical and mythical creatures and hid them from her mother in case she found out that Wendy had been sneaking into the studio. Wendy also began to sneak out at night. She began going to nightclubs, concerts, raves, parties and gatherings that her mother didn't know about. Amanda knew and it hurt her so much to see her sister come home early in the morning drunk, or drug, or bruised and beaten because she had gotten into a fight. What astounded Amanda though was that her mother never noticed in the morning that Wendy had black rings around her eyes, grazes or swayed from side to side or look like she was out of it.

One day when Amelia was out and it was just the two girls in the house Amanda confronted her. "Wendy," she said softly as she knocked on her sister's door, "Wendy" she said again. Wendy opened the door her hair all messed up, her pyjamas on, her arm bruised, she was yawning too.

"Yes?' she said as Amanda walked into the room. Wendy slumped onto her bed and waited for her sister to talk.

"Wendy why are you doing this to yourself?" she said concerned as she sat down on the end of Wendy's bed.

'Doing what?" She said thickly.

"Going out every night, coming home smashed. I am really worried," she said, Wendy snorted.

"How do you know that I go out?" she asked looking around for a pencil and a piece of paper.

"I hear you leave every night and stay awake worrying about you. Then you come home and you look like this! Drunk, bruised, I cry every time," said Amanda almost in tears. Wendy stopped what she was doing and looked at her sister. She slid toward her and rubbed her back smiling. "I mean it is a surprise mum doesn't notice," said Amanda wiping her eyes.

"Mum doesn't notice much anymore," said Wendy smiling, "If you want I won't go out anymore," she said looking at her sister. She couldn't bear to break her sister's heart so she would stop whatever it was that was hurting her.

"Really?" asked Amanda looking at Wendy, hope sparkling in her eyes.

"Yeah, I mean I won't miss out on much. The things I do are pretty stupid anyway; I mean all the parties get called off by the cops anyway. I am lucky that they haven't caught me! I mean I would get sent to juvenile hall or something because I already have a record – "Wendy stopped talking as the doorbell rang. The girls got up and walked down stairs. Wendy made a quick stop to fix up her hair and joined her sister at the door stood JJ.

"Hi JJ, what are you doing here?" asked Amanda. JJ was a very tall and lanky boy. He had jet-black hair and wore black clothing but he was a surfie by nature.

"I came here to see Wendy wondering if she was up to going to Charlie's gathering tonight?" he asked looking at Wendy.

"Nup, not going out like that anymore only making me more messed up," she said shaking her head.

"But you have only be out once or twice," he said crossing his arms.

"You may have only been out to these types of things once or twice but I have been going out to them, well almost every night," Wendy confessed.

"Oh, well I won't bother you about them any more! That must be the reason for you falling asleep in every class," he said, "Well I got to get going, see you ladies at school tomorrow," he turned on his heel and walked to the elevator.

"Bye JJ," the girls said in unison.

"I wish Peter pan would come and take me away," said Wendy softly.