Author's Note: Hi, this is my first Fanfiction, and I have to be honest. I nearly jumped up and down screaming when I figured out how to upload stories on here. It was a complete blonde moment.

Some of the ideas here will definitely be from Alice in Wonderland, 2010 because that's kind of where I got the idea to write this fic. I deeply appreciate all reviews, just don't turn the reviews into a war zone, like I've seen happen before.

I'm giving out a warning right now, be patient when it comes to updates, because I can get extremely lazy, even though I have a laptop in front of me most of the time. And if there are any music recommendations, I will gladly accept them, just nothing rap, or something that comes from the Disney Channel-no offense.

Please let me know what you think of anything! Thanks.


Prologue

It is said that all children grow up except one. That there is a place, like no place on Earth. A destination where no one is supposed to grow up. Where you have to be completely mad and childish to survive it.

Where you have to believe, whether it is a dream or not.

Luckily, this place only exists in the imagination of a mind that is far too creative. Or so, this is what people used to think.


The dream always went the same way. I was in a strange land that was entirely otherworldly. This place wasn't supposed to exist.

Perhaps the stories I used to tell John and Michael were too vividly drawn out in my head. That the landscape of this strangely magnificent place was far too visible for my own good.

I did read somewhere that the dreams known as Ordinary Dreams are based on what we've experienced during the day. That even a single thought can trigger a dream. But the book never said anything about the same Ordinary Dream occurring nearly every night. Or if it's normal that, that one Ordinary Dream is the only dream that I've had for a while.

I stared up at my dark ceiling, straining to hear the steady sleeping breaths of my brothers. When I used to sleep in the nursery with John and Michael, this was the exact thing that would ease me to sleep. Now with a wall in between us, even a paper thin one, it was impossible to hear them. Only on those silent nights, I would get a few minutes of luck and hear them.

And on the nights like this—when I would wake up from the dream, nearly gasping for air, with a light sheen of sweat on my forehead—would I pray for those silent lucky moments to have their breathing lull me back to sleep. But of course, that would not happen tonight. For there was a horrid thunderstorm looming over Bloomsbury.

I sighed as the rain began pounding even harder than before, making it sound like pebbles were falling from the sky. I sat up in my bed, threw the covers off my legs and made my way to the door in the dim light. After stubbing my toe on my desk, which always seemed to be too close to my bed, I reached the door and let the golden light spill into my room. Mother would already be asleep, and I wouldn't want to wake her. But I could still see light coming from Father's study, and he always knew how to calm me.

Quietly as I could, I walked to Father's study, as my shadow danced across the hall, mirroring my every move. Only when I got to the study, I remembered, too slow, that Father had one of his late night meetings with his banking company. So I stood in the doorway to his study, feeling as uncomfortable and awkward as possible. My eyes went straight to my Father's face, and I saw how his eyes had softened when he understood why I came out of bed so late into the night.

"The dream again?" Father asked after stopping mid-sentence while talking to his co-workers.

I nodded my head slowly, not caring if I should be feeling embarrassed to stand in front of Father's co-workers after waking up from a bad dream in the middle of the night.

Father looked back towards his colleagues, "Excuse me for a moment. This won't take long." He walked out of his study and took my hand to lead me back to bed.

After making sure I was tucked into the sheets, Father sat down beside me on the bed.

"Now Wendy, why don't you tell me about this dream again?"

"Well it always begins the same," I began quietly. Hoping my voice was audible. "I'm flying high into the night skies of London, past the stars and straight into the brightest star there is, the second one to the right. Then I come across an island floating in nothingness. And there is a boy, who claims he will never grow into a man. And a fairy who glows like a piece of that bright star. And several strange boys, walking around with bows and arrows. A pirate with a hook for a hand, and whose eyes turn blood red when he is about to kill. And Indians, and mermaids who like to drown people if they get too close.

"Father, do you think I've gone mad? I'm dreaming of places that could never possible exist, and—"

"Do you want to know what I think about this?" He said, cutting my ramblings off. "I think you've gone completely mad. Absolute, full circle around the bed. But I'll tell you a secret. Some of the greatest people in this world are."

And with that I smiled. His words were my main solace.

Seeing the obvious sudden comfort spread across my features, Father stood up and said, "Goodnight," he kissed my forehead, "have a peaceful sleep."

As father walked out the door, and closed it gently behind him, I stared out my window. The storm had finally passed, leaving large puddles in the English streets as the only trace of evidence it was ever even there.

Cautious of all the cracks in the floor, I got out of bed again and walked over to me window. Pushing it open, thanking the gods it was silent, I felt the cool breeze blow across my face, and the wind playing with my loose auburn brown waves. I closed my eyes to let this feeling sink in, when I heard a sound just above my window. Almost like footsteps. But as soon as I heard the sound, it was gone. Like it never happened.

I leaned my upper body out slightly to look up at the roof. Nothing. Sighing, I straightened up and turned to walk back to my bed, leaving the window open.

Only when I saw the wall directly across from the window, I saw a shadow against the moonlight bleeding in. The shadow was just floating in the air, like nothing—not even gravity—could pull it down.

Gasping, I turned to look out the window again. There was nothing there to cause the shadow. I turned back to the wall. No shadow.

Not knowing what else to do, I crawled back into bed, and let the tapping sound of rain dripping off the roof, ease me to sleep.

And then something I thought wouldn't happen—especially not tonight—did. I heard the sleeping breaths of John and Michael.

I never saw the shadow again.


And there it is! I'll try to update soon . . . hopefully. And now you know the drill, the same as with the many amazing authors on Fanfiction. Please review! Thanks a lot!

~Sincerely, Savannah