However, each story I write has the same characters: A girl, a pirate...and a boy. Peter Pan to be exact. He had curly dirty blond hair and sea green eyes that always sparkled with happiness, playfulness, laughter, adventure, and mischief. He wore clothes made of branches, leaves, and acorns. He had sidekicks sometimes, like Tinkerbell and The Lost Boys...but the most magical thing about him was that he never grew up.
The reason was probably because of Neverland, a place full of magic where you would always see mermaids swishing and splashing about and fairys zipping and zooming past you. And one night, Wendy, John, and Micheal had actually gone there! The night they left, I was in my room, writing a new story. So try to imagine my shock I had gotten when the next morning, they were gone.
The good thing was that I knew Wendy well enough to know that she wouldn't leave without placing a note somewhere for me so I searched their room. I found it under her pillow, her location and apologies hastily scribbled on the paper. I was envious and longed for Peter to come to my windowsill one night to take me to the magical place. But I knew if Peter came back he would come for Wendy, not me. After all, by the sounds of it, it seems they fell in love. But Wendy had to do the stupid thing and come back.
No matter how relieved I was to see her back, I knew she wouldn't be fully happy until she had seen Peter again. How wrong I was. Soon after Wendy came back, she immediately found a guy and was smitten with him. Guess she wasn't as in love with Peter Pan as she thought. Poor Peter... If he comes back, he'll be in for a big surprise. I pitied Peter. I mean, the first girl he loved is going to get his heart broken by her.
I sighed and bent over my paper, my hand flying across the paper. I stopped, losing my train of thought for a second. I tapped my pencil against my desk, trying to remember what I was about to jot down. However, I must've tapped too hard, because my pencil went flying out of my hand and landed on the other side of my room. I groaned and got up to retrieve it, but just as I was about to pick it up, another hand beat me to it. It handed me the pencil and I took it hesitantly. I looked up and gasped. In front of me was a boy and he was flying. Peter Pan had come at last.
"Wendy?" he whispered. My hopes came crashing down and I turned away from him.
"I'm not Wendy," I snapped, a little more harshly than I should've. I turned slightly and watched his reaction from the corner of my eye. His face had a look of surprise and hurt at my hostility. Guilt immediately flooded through me.
"Oh...Where is she?" he asked, looking around.
"Out."
"But, she's usually telling stories at this time," he said, a confused expression adorning his face.
"Well, sorry to disappoint, but she's not available right now," I snapped. There was an small silence as I glared at the wall behind him as he flew in midair awkwardly.
"What's your name?" he asked hesitantly, probably wondering if I was going to snap at him again. I sighed and turned to look at him.
"Ashley Isabella Love Darling," I answered quietly. An awkward silence fell between us. I broke it by saying, "I'm sorry I snapped at you...It's just I thought you would come for me instead of Wendy..." I trailed off, sounding stupider and stupider. Then I mumbled, "Wendy gets everything."
Peter was quiet but then asked, "What do you mean?"
"Wendy gets to meet you, learns how to fly, goes to Neverland, comes back, gets a new boyfriend, AND gets all the credit for my stories!" I ranted. Peter was once again stunned into silence.
"You write the stories?" Peter asked, obviously confused. "Not Wendy? But how's that possible? I've been listening to her stories for years."
I shook my head at Peter stared at me. I was assuming he wanted an explanation.
"Well, you see, Wendy pretends to write the stories we tell. However, on the contrary, it is I who writes them. I'm too shy to let others know of my talent," I said so formally, I didn't recognize my voice. He looked taken aback by this information. I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling that would be his reaction.
"But how? You're younger than Wendy aren't you?" Peter asked, obviously still lost.
"Well...yes. But ever since I discovered my love of writing, I've been writing the stories Wendy tells and takes credit for," I said.
"Oh..." Peter said, thinking over what I had just said.
"Wait," he suddenly said, remembering something. "You said she got a new boy...boyfriend?"
My eyes widened. "I wasn't supposed to say that."
He started lowering to the ground, his face looking as if he'll start crying. But from what Wendy said, Peter was stubborn and because of his pride, he wouldn't let his tears fall. Weny said the only time she's known him to cry was when Tink fell dead.
"I...I'm sorry," I said, at a loss for words. Peter took a breath and opened his mouth to say something.
"H-how?" he asked.
"It's a long story," I murmured, not in the mood to discuss it.
"You can tell me in Neverland?" Peter asked hesitantly.
I gasped and whispered, "Neverland? With you?"
Peter nodded, smiling sadly but obviously pleased with his brilliance. "You've always wanted to go, right?"
I nodded, still processing what was happening.
"And, the Lost Boys need a new mother to tell stories..."
"The Lost Boys?" I asked. "But they live with us now..."
"There are always new Lost Boys when the previous ones leave," Petter explained.
"Alright then," I said, unable to contain my smile. I felt bad for smiling since Peter was obviously feeling miserable due to the news about Wendy. "You know I was planning to run away?"
"Well..." Peter paused. "I actually ran away from home. That's how I found Tinkerbell, though I call her Tink."
"Did she come with you?" I asked eagerly. Peter nodded and said, "Actually, she's right outside. I was hoping to bring Wendy back, but instead I found out the truth and I'm bringing back her sister!" Peter chuckled bitterly.
"I am truly sorry," I said sincerely. Peter shrugged.
"I don't want to talk about it."
I frowned. "Peter-"
"Please," he said, looking at me with pleading eyes.
"Alright."
"Let's fly away to Neverland," he whispered, changing the topic.
"One moment," I said, stopping him. "I must gather some of my items."
I quickly grabbed a knapsack that I had packed just in case Peter had ever come to me. I couldn't believe I would actually be putting this knapsack to use! I left out a note I had scribbled quickly on my bed and ran back to Peter's side.
"I'm ready," I whispered excitedly. He guided me to my windowsill and a small bright yellow light flew out of nowhere. I looked closer and saw it was Tinkerbell.
"She's so pretty!" I exclaimed quietly to Peter. Tink jingled as if to say, "Thank you!" I smiled and said, "Just stating a fact."
She jingled again, this time saying, "Wait...you can understand my jingles?"
I nodded, confused. "Couldn't Wendy?"
Peter shook his head and said, "Only people who belong in Neverland can understand a fairy. I guess it should've been a large hint that Wendy wasn't the one..."
I gasped softly, ignoring the last part, and said, "So, I belong in Neverland?"
Tink jingled happily and Peter grinned at me.
"Guess it's meant to be," he said mischieviously. Tink sprinkled me with her pixiedust and I immediately lifted into the air with Peter. Peter stared at me.
"You're a natural," he noted.
"How so?" I asked curiously.
"Most people need to think of happy thoughts and it takes them a while. Wendy, Michael, and John took a few tries," he answered. I blushed.
"Well, I'm always thinking happy thoughts, especially now! I mean, come on! I'm going to Neverland," I said, emphasising on Neverland.
Peter nodded and said, "True. And you're going with me, the amazing Peter Pan!"
I giggled and said, "I'm not too sure about the amazing part."
Peter glared at me and I laughed. "You are so full of yourself," I teased. He stuck his tounge out playfully.
"Come on, are we going to Neverland or not?" I said, slightly impatient. I started lowering a bit and stood there on the windowsill. He took my hand and a small spark went through me. We jumped away from each other and stared at each other. I was the first to look away and blush. I took his hand again, ignoring the spark I kept feeling. We lifted into the air and Peter looked at me.
"Second star on the right, then straight on till morning," he said, the twinkle in his eye reappearing for the first time since he found out about Wendy. Peter pulled me and we began our flight above London.