DISCLAIMER: I am only doing this on the first chapter because I do believe you all realize that I am most definitely NOT J.M. Barrie and that I most certainly did NOT create the story of Peter Pan. Therefore, I do not own a bit of it. I refuse to continuously write down a disclaimer on each and every damned chapter when everyone who reads it is quite aware of the fact that I don't own a damned thing from the original story. So, this is the first and last time you will see this. If you even bother to read it at all. Thank You for taking the time to read or not read this stupid statement that almost everyone has to write. Enjoy the story!
Chapter One: Enter Wendy Moira Angela Darling
Our story begins in the Darling Household where something dreadful is just about to take place. Oh dearest Wendy, you have no clue what will happen in the next few moments for you, so stubborn in your ways, are about to have your world crashed down upon your sweet, little head.
Wendy, at the tender age of nine, was sitting in her nursery reenacting heroic tales of a strong princess named Cinderella fighting against the evil pirates, who were lead by the notorious Captain Jas. Hook, for her freedom. All of a sudden, her parents had burst into the door with a stern looking woman behind her. Her father, George Darling, was looking rather fierce. Her mother, Mary Darling, was looking as if she were about to fall to pieces. George Darling spoke first.
"Wendy," he spoke softly, yet coldly to her, "You must pack your things." Wendy was rather shocked by this; what was going on?
"Why, whatever for, Father?" She looked up at him, her confusion incredibly evident in her young face. He fidgeted a bit; Wendy briefly wondered if he was nervous about something. If only she knew it was not nervousness her father felt, but a crushing guilt.
"Wendy, dear," his voice trembled a bit as he spoke, "You are going away for a while." Wendy, in her poor naïveté, thought this to be some sort of family trip and voiced as such. She began to speak of her excitement, asking her father which places they were going and would not allow him to answer, simply jumping to her own conclusions. As she was doing this, she immediately began to pack; well, that is, until George Darling had had enough.
"Be quiet!" he hissed, somehow loud enough for it to sound as if he were yelling. Wendy froze in her spot; her father had never yelled at her like this before. Seeing her fear, he immediately felt guilty, and composed himself.
"Wendy, your mother and I are not going with you." It was at this distinct moment that Wendy once more took notice of the stern woman behind her parents; she began to feel very frightened.
"Father," her voice was barely above a whisper, "Where shall I be going?" As soon as the words left her mouth, her mother began to sob wildly.
"Just tell her, George!" her mother cried between her cries. Wendy was most definitely frightened by now. George Darling, seeing his wife in tears, lost any amount of steel he had placed on his heart for this horrible thing he had to do. He walked over to Wendy and knelt in front of her. He then pulled her into his arms and held her for one long moment, before pulling her away so he could look her in the eye.
"Wendy," he began, "Right now, we are very poor. We are barely just managing to get by. I realize you may not understand this, but I feel I must explain to you the reason why I am doing what I am doing now." At this, the stern looking woman interrupted. Her voice was just as harsh as her appearance. It sounded like nails going down a chalkboard, Wendy thought to herself, and had all the coldness of steel on a snowy day.
"Come now, Mr. Darling," the woman practically spat, "Just tell the girl that you are sending her to the orphanage and be done with the whole ordeal." George made to snap at the old woman, for interrupting him, when Wendy, now completely horrified, spoke oh-so quietly, but just loud enough for him to hear.
"Orphanage?" She asked. Her father, whose face was now the very picture of the guilt he held in his heart, confirmed. The world fell silent on Wendy's ears, except for the sound of something shattering. It sounded so much like a vase had fallen somewhere in the house, but Wendy knew that, without a doubt, the sound she heard was the sound of her own heart breaking.
Wendy began to scream and cry. She struggled against her father's hold, but he held her fast to him. When she realized struggling was getting her nowhere, she began to beg him to let her stay. That she wouldn't ask for anything anymore, to just let her stay. At this, her father broke.
"Don't you see that's why we are doing this?" he cried, tears flowing down his face, "We want to give you everything you desire; everything you deserve! But, we can't!" he shrieked the last sentence, sounding something very similar to an animal in pain. Wendy stood, frozen, never before seeing her father so…emotional. After catching his breath and gathering his wit back about him, he continued in a quiet, solemn voice, "Your mother and I decided that you would have a better chance of finding a family who could provide for you if we sent you to an orphanage that was known for the many wealthy adopters that walk through its doors." Wendy, still being unable to comprehend it all (she was only nine, after all) simply uttered one word in response.
"Please…" her voice was so broken and defeated that it sent her mother, who had only just calmed down, back into another frenzy of tears. The stern woman, finally having had enough, shushed the weeping woman harshly, and gave a dark look towards George, who was about to reprimand the woman for treating his wife in such a manner. The woman swiftly walked past Wendy's parents towards Wendy herself and spoke in a manner of how one would speak to some great enemy.
"Listen here, girl," the woman's voice was palpable with the venom it possessed, "Your parents can no longer afford your little whims. So now, you will pack your things and you will be coming with me." Wendy, hopelessly defeated, did as the woman said without argument. She only ever looked back towards her parents when she was already in the coach with the evil woman, looking at them as they gazed mournfully at her from the nursery window. She remembered as she packed her father telling her that "It will only be for a little while…" Wendy knew in her heart, though, that this was the last time she would ever see her parents again.
Now, the tale of Wendy's time in the orphanage is no happy tale. Horrible things happen to Wendy here. Horrible, unspeakable things. If you are one of the few who are faint at heart, yet still continued reading despite my previous warnings, turn back now. From her first arrival at the orphanage, things go downhill. If you do not think you wish to continue, I do not blame you. But! Alas! It is far too late, now! Now, there is no choice but to see what befalls dear Wendy; darling Wendy.
It was quite some time before the coach arrived at the orphanage. It was all the way on the other side of London; far from her old home. Wendy was glad, though, when the coach finally stopped. She could no longer bear to be near that terrible woman. The fiend glared at her during the entire ride with something akin to a disapproving stare. Wendy knew, without a doubt, that when she walked into the gates of the orphanage, she just took her first steps through the gates of Hell and that that terrible woman was the Devil himself.
The woman was carrying Wendy's things, making Wendy quite nervous. Wendy decided to hide her distrust by masking it with kindness. She truly was very clever, despite being only nine.
"Ma'am," she began, "I can carry those things myself. There is no need to waste such kindness on an undeserving soul, such as myself." Wendy hoped the woman would fall for it, but alas, she did not. The woman turned to her and gave such a frightening smile that Wendy thought the woman meant to murder her.
"No," the woman began, her voice once again oozing poison, "I will carry it myself to where we put all the children's things, should they have any." The woman turned back around without a word, leaving poor Wendy confuse; all the children's things? Why put them all in the same place when they obviously belonged with the child?
The woman stopped at a door; it was a dark wooded door (much like the rest of the orphanage, which was filled with dismal colors such as black and grey) and unlocked it. Then, she opened the door and stepped in. Once Wendy was finally graced with the appearance of the room, she felt her blood freeze. None of the children's things were in there. No suitcases, clothes, toys; no anything. The only thing in there was a large fireplace and, in it, a large fire. She looked towards the woman, feeling an intense dread, and saw that the vile thing had opened Wendy's suitcase and was proceeding to take out every last precious item Wendy had placed. Then, once the suitcase was empty, she gathered up all those wonderful things that Wendy held so dear, and tossed them into the fire before Wendy's very eyes. Wendy felt her mouth go dry. Was this woman deranged?
"Why would you do that?" Wendy shrieked, and began to charge the woman. The woman, however, seemed to be expecting this sort of reaction (she had seen it many times before), and simply waited until Wendy was close enough before smacking the girl so hard that she flew several feet backwards.
Wendy sat up from the floor and looked at the woman; horrified. No one had ever smacked her before. And there the woman stood, that evil little smile saying that she had thoroughly enjoyed doing that to poor Wendy Darling. It was at this very point in Wendy's life that she first hated someone. Not even the sinister Captain Hook from her stories could compare with this woman's level of cruelty.
The woman then walked over to Wendy and yanked the poor girl up to a standing position by her hair, grinning maliciously all the while. This woman, Wendy thought to herself, is evil incarnate.
"Girl," the woman spat, "as long as you stay here, there are some things you need to realize," the woman's smile seemed to grow wider at the very thought of saying what she was about to say, "You…are nothing." She hissed, "You will always be nothing. And until you learn that, I will beat you every day until all that's left of you is just that; nothing." Wendy was nothing short of terrified. What had she done to deserve this kind of treatment? She was only nine and the woman treated her as if they were old foes. Wendy couldn't even begin to comprehend the woman's motives for her malicious actions towards her.
Without any warning, Wendy was dropped and she crashed to the floor. The woman stood before her for a few more moments, no doubt savoring her victory over Wendy, before walking over to the door. There, she stopped and turned back towards Wendy before speaking.
"Get up, you stupid girl. Unless," she paused, then gave another frightening smile, "you wish to never find your room. I could simply leave you in here with the rats. I'm sure they would simply love to nibble on your little toes and fingers." Now terrified, Wendy gathered her strength and practically ran towards the door before she was left in there with the rats. Swiftly, she followed the woman down the hall until they came to a large room with several beds; there were twenty to thirty of them.
"This," the woman spoke, gaining the attention of Wendy once more, "Is where all of the girls stay. Your bed," she walked over to one of the beds closer to the front of the room on the left side, "Is where you will sleep. Your uniform, of which there are two sets, and sleeping clothes are underneath your bed in a box. Also in there, will be your toiletries for the month. You will receive a set of toiletries each month only once, so you better learn how to ration them or else you will not be bathing. As for your daily schedule, you will begin your day by waking up precisely at 5 AM. Sleeping in will not be tolerated and will be punished with a beating and one night without supper. From there, you will attend your classes for the day. We wouldn't want you to become any more stupid, now do we?" She chuckled to herself; finding her own little joke highly amusing. Soon after, she continued, "After the first class of the morning, there will be a brief 30 minute intermission for tea. Then the second class will begin and afterwards, there will be lunch. Then, you will have the last two classes, after which you will have a recess, 2 hours long, and then it will be time for supper. Once supper is through, you are to return here immediately and get ready for bed. To get ready for bed," Wendy interrupted here; she was not stupid.
"I already know how to get ready for bed, Ma'am." At this, she got that cold disapproving stare she endured for the entire carriage-ride.
"For your cheek, girl, you can go without supper tonight. Now, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, to get ready for bed, you are to do these things in order. Bathe, brush your teeth, dry your hair, put your sleeping gown on, and then get into the bed and sleep. Anyone caught up or awake after lights out, will receive a beating and three nights without supper. Now, I will leave you here to get ready for bed, seeing as how it is late and you will not be receiving supper. The lavatories are," she pointed to three doors on the other side of the room; one on the right, another on the left, and one in the middle, "Over there. You have more than enough time to get ready for bed, so when the other children come in here, you had better be sitting in your bed ready to go to sleep. Do I make myself clear?" Wendy nodded. "Good." With that, the woman walked off leaving Wendy all alone. Wendy proceeded down to the bathroom on the left.
When she walked in, she was quite surprised. It was the largest lavatory she had ever seen. It had five toilets on the back wall, ten sinks on the wall closest to the door, and ten washing basins on the opposite side. Wendy, being incredibly curious decided to look at the other two lavatories to see if they were the same; and indeed they were, right down to the letter. Wendy was amazed. Going back to the lavatory she first occupied (she left her toiletries and sleeping gown in there, so she had to) she proceeded to bathe, brush her teeth and dry her hair with a towel that she took from a large stack of towels in the corner of the room. Then, she got dressed for bed and left the lavatory. Before climbing into bed, she hid her old clothes underneath her pillow; desperately wanting to keep a reminder of her old life. Then, she pulled up the blankets, climbed in, and promptly fell asleep.
She did not get to sleep long however, for she was awakened by a shriek nearby. Quickly, she sat up. It was rather apparent now that all the other girls were here, but one of them was looking rather furious.
"Who used my towel?" she screamed, "Everyone knows that I always set my towel on top of the stack I even wrote my name on the bloody thing! Who used it?" Wendy carefully, so as not to draw attention to herself, reached under her bed and grabbed the towel she used. There, on the right-hand corner, was the name "Hannah". Wendy swallowed thickly. Suddenly, a girl cried out:
"Hannah! Hannah! It was this girl! She used your towel!" she yelled excitedly, pointing to Wendy. Hannah turned towards her and gave the most vicious glare Wendy had ever seen, even worse than that old woman. Wendy felt her blood freeze in her very veins as the girl swiftly approached her and yanked the towel from Wendy's hands.
"Who do you think you are?" she shrieked, "How dare you take something from me!"
"I'm sorry," Wendy stuttered out, "I didn't know!"
"Hm," the girl considered her for a moment, "I supposed I don't recognize your face. Maybe I could overlook it this time," there was a collective groan of disappointment around the room, the girl continued, "But," extra emphasis on "but", "I think it would be best…to make sure you learn your lesson so as to never take from me again." With each word, the girl leaned closer and closer to Wendy's face until they were almost nose to nose. Wendy wished the girl would go away, she was quite hideous and her breath reeked. Suddenly, as if reading Wendy's thoughts, the girl pulled away and punched Wendy square in the face. There were several squeals of delight as Wendy's head hit the backboard of the bed. Feeling incredibly dazed, Wendy felt someone grab her by the collar of her dress and looked to see who it was; it was the same girl. From there, the girl proceeded to repeatedly punch her in the face, with Wendy helpless to do anything because she was nearing unconsciousness.
Suddenly, there was that dreaded harsh voice and the girl let go of her, allowing her to hit the bed with an "oof!"
"What," that evil woman drawled, "is going on here?"
"The new girl," Hannah spat out, "stole my towel!" Wendy, still on the verge of falling unconscious, was unable to argue for herself. The woman walked over to her and gazed down coolly.
"Well," she smirked, "I see the punishment for stealing has already halfway been dealt. Girl, you will also go without supper tomorrow night for stealing." With that, the woman walked away; a chorus of laughter following after her. Wendy simply continued to lay there in pain while the rest of the girls quickly forgot about her and got ready to go to bed.
Now, there was no more room to doubt. Wendy was, indeed, in Hell.