Scars
By Azul Bloom

Very much up in the air. Opening of a story yet to be formed. Just a mesh of emotion. Reason is not always there. Purpose will be found, not assigned. I might regret having wrote this later on.

Prologue.

It was painful for both. Knowing the truth and yet not admitting it to each other. For him, not even admitting it to himself.

Hardest thing.

Wendy left after their grandest adventure. After Peter destroyed the only other thing that gave him a sense of self and meaning.

And all for her and her boys.

Peter helped her return, after stealing her away from innocence and warmth. Returning her to her nursery when she no longer could remain in it.

Such was their story. Such was their fairy tale.

You'd think it was a magical, wonderful, beautiful thing. They're love. But it really was nothing of the sort. 'Painful' would be most appropriate. And to think, it could have been prevented, had he simply not returned to number 14.

It could have been prevented, had the dog not stolen his shadow in the middle of the night.

In truth, it could have been prevented one lifetime before, if the little girl with the eyes same as Wendy would not have allowed the boy in through her window on that one lonely night.

But then again, perhaps it wasn't that girl's fault at all. Some say that he'd known of that home for ages before. Some say that it really was as much his home as it was that girl's.

Who really knows. Not even Pan.

Oh, but there was one that knew. And oh cruel fate and rash hand of youth, that one is gone. Swallowed by time.