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Notes from the Authoress: Hey everyone, Ellie here! I'm back with chapter 14, and fortunately I think everyone's going to enjoy the fact that Mr. Darling isn't as evil as he seems. He's not! For real! I really don't have a lot to say about this one, so just read, review and most of all ENJOY!
Because I love you guys so much!
I LOVE YOU ALL
~Ellie~
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Mr. Darling stomped down the hallway, frazzled, tired and heartbroken. He had come from the scene where he had committed an unthinkable crime, and now his daughter's hate was mental and verbal.
What have I done? He thought to himself, guilt gnawing at his very being every step of the way towards his room. He heard no noise from Wendy's room now; it was pure silence, the kind of silence that made you want to scream, bang something, do anything to break the heavy stillness.
But he still firmly believed that what he had done had been for the best.
His feet took him back to his bedroom, where he opened the door quietly, expecting to find his wife asleep, and the light off.
But nothing is ever as expected, now is it?
Mrs. Darling was wide awake, the lamp next to her bed was lit, and she sat up in bed, her back posture perfectly straight against the backboard. Sleep rimmed her eyes, and she looked at her husband questioningly; she knew that something had happened. She just didn't know what.
"George...I heard yelling coming from Wendy's room and it woke me up....what on earth are you and she doing up at this ungodly hour?"
All the feeling rushed back into Mr. Darling's body, and he began to do the unthinkable for a man of this stature-he began to cry.
Now, one would think that if a man of his stature were to cry at all, it would be polite, small tears. But not the tears of a now-exiled father. Indeed, his tears were that like his daughter's; his body shook with his combined grief and guilt.
Mrs. Darling clicked her tongue and motioned for him to come and sit next to her in a motherly fashion, and he complied. She put her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
"There, there, dear, it's alright now. Tell me what happened."
With a guilty heart, Mr. Darling proceeded to tell his wife everything....with a few choice edits, of course. When he had finished, Mrs. Darling stared at him, half of her wanting to throw her arms around her poor, disgruntled husband, and half of her wanting to slap him and tell her he deserved what he got. She decided with the former.
"Darling....you poor thing, I've never seen you this upset! I've never known you to be the crying type, George. Such a strong man....oh, there, there! Dry those eyes! "she tsked as a fresh wave of tears came on strong.
Mr. Darling looked at his wife with surprised eyes.
"So you pity me?"
She nodded, and said, "But why do you want her to marry Edward so badly that you would separate Wendy from her...uh...vine-covered lover? It's not that I don't want Wendy to marry him but...Peter's a good boy, I don't think he was out to harm Wendy at all. What's changed in you, George? You used to boast such a brave and kind heart....where's it gone when it comes to Wendy? It's there with everyone but her. What happened?"
George opened his mouth to speak, but then did a double take, pausing to wonder at this question himself. What had changed? This was George Darling, who had once said, 'Dash the neighbors...dash the expense!' and adopted a herd of ruffians suddenly one night, and had supported his daughter's wish to become a novelist. So why was he forcing this upon Wendy and making her hate him with such a passion? He knew the answer.
"Dear....do you remember those dreams that we kept 'locked' in that drawer for so many years? I thought myself brave for not taking those dreams out and benefiting myself, but rather making sure my family was happy. I sacrificed so many dreams to be a bank clerk. When I was promoted, it was harder and harder to keep the drawer closed; in fact it almost seemed as though it was trying to open itself!"
Mrs. Darling looked surprised. She hadn't thought her husband to be one of temptation. He looked like he couldn't go on, so she urged him to do so. "Continue, if you please, George."
"When we met the governor and he expressed the fact that his son wanted to marry Wendy...well, all my resolve just went out the window, and that drawer was completely open! I have no power over keeping it closed anymore. I can't think myself brave anymore; I'm nothing but a bloody coward!"
"There, there, dear, no you're not! It's Wendy that needs to understand here that you are being so brave by keeping this family with a house! What you've done is ensure that no one in this family ever goes hungry again, that makes you such a hero! Wendy's being selfish, she has to accept that she's living in an era where people don't marry for love, they marry to survive. As much as you may think yourself a coward, you're not, George. You're a hero. You're saving this family from disaster, it's Wendy that needs to be put in her place, not you. She'll marry Edward. Don't you worry about a thing."
Mrs. Darling had a rather stony look in her eyes as she continued with her rampant speech.
"You try to sleep, dear. Don't let tonight trouble you, I'll go talk to Wendy right now; I'll try to set things straight."
She wore a plastered smile which didn't reach her eyes. Mr. Darling kissed her gratefully.
"It's no wonder I married you, you amazing woman. Tell Wendy I love her, won't you? Tell her that I'm so sorry for what I've done."
"I will, but you don't need to be sorry about anything," Mrs. Darling said sweetly. She put out the lamp and flounced out of the bedroom, her red dressing gown trailing elegantly. She was more than furious. Her husband meant everything to her, and she was extremely protective of his well being. If Wendy had made him cry, she was going to pay.
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The door to Wendy's room opened slowly, letting in the warm light from the hallway. It cast a glow over the silent blue-gray of Wendy's lightless room.
"Wendy!" Mrs. Darling said in a commanding voice. "Wendy, wake up!"
She walked over to the bed to find her daughter laying there, the infernal stench of alcohol on her lips. The now-empty bottle lay next to her; most of its contents had spilled all over her lovely starched sheets. Wendy began to open her eyes, and her mother took immediate notice
Mrs. Darling swore under her breath. "You disgust me," she hissed as she pulled off her socks and proceeded to help her change into her nightdress. She lowered her face to Wendy's pale, sickly face. "Just between you and me," she said. "You're father's never going to know about this. You're a selfish little girl for making your father cry like that! Your father, who's the most important thing in the world to me."
She grabbed Wendy's legs and slung them so that she was now fully on the bed, her head resting on the pillow. She moaned softly, and lifted a hand to rub her temple, but her mother grabbed it and forced it down. "Don't move, you ungrateful daughter. You don't deserve to have any relief from whatever pain you're in."
"Mother....it was you? What? Where's fath-"
"Shush! Your father's fine, you've made him feel awfully bad, now he feels just horrible. I hope you're happy, you fool of a daughter."
Wendy looked at her mother, and felt all of the anger she felt towards her father rushing out, and it was replaced by a new burning one towards her mother.
She stretched out her hand and felt for the chain on Wendy's neck. When she had located it, she tore it off, kiss and all. "I'll be taking that," she said softly, and turned on her heel and fled from the room before Wendy could do anything. It wouldn't have mattered, by that time she was unconscious again.
The tyranny of the mother had risen.
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Wendy's eyes fluttered open, and her room seemed to spin around. The first thing she noticed were the morning birds chirping and breaking the silence, and early sun streamed through her window and onto her face, calling her into a new morning. It would have been quite a pleasant scenario, if it hadn't been for the fact that her head ached terribly; her temples were throbbing with a kind of pain she'd never felt before.
'I guess that's what one sip can to do a first-timer,' she thought sadly. If life was to continue the way it was, it would be the first of many times.
The memories of the night before came rushing back to her-first her father, then forgiving her father, then the hatred for her overprotective mother.
She sat up in bed and looked around. No sign that Peter had even been there. Not even her kiss, which her mother had so cruelly torn from her the night before. She felt sickness rising in her throat-a mixture of hatred and the previous night's alcohol. Her stupid, stupid mother had the thing that she held most dear next to the boy himself...and he was gone too.
She would have to go about her wedding duties until Peter returned. He would. She knew he would. He had to, because they were in love.
She would wait.
'Please come and get me sometime BEFORE the wedding, Peter,' she thought to herself resignedly.
But it was time for breakfast. She could wait later.
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Afterthoughts: Hmmm..yah, I can definitely see a more flawed mother than father, can't you? While I was watching the movie, all I could think was "Wow, that woman is gonna snap one day". And she finally has! Just not in the movies. I really hope you enjoyed this time around, I worked quite hard on it. Oh, and Kimberly-A, I emailed you in regards to your beta offer, but you never returned the email, so if you're still interested drop me a note at clefai405@aol.com! Thanks!! I hope you all come back for fifteen!
Mwah!!
I LOVE YOU ALL
~Ellie~
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Notes from the Authoress: Hey everyone, Ellie here! I'm back with chapter 14, and fortunately I think everyone's going to enjoy the fact that Mr. Darling isn't as evil as he seems. He's not! For real! I really don't have a lot to say about this one, so just read, review and most of all ENJOY!
Because I love you guys so much!
I LOVE YOU ALL
~Ellie~
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------------
Mr. Darling stomped down the hallway, frazzled, tired and heartbroken. He had come from the scene where he had committed an unthinkable crime, and now his daughter's hate was mental and verbal.
What have I done? He thought to himself, guilt gnawing at his very being every step of the way towards his room. He heard no noise from Wendy's room now; it was pure silence, the kind of silence that made you want to scream, bang something, do anything to break the heavy stillness.
But he still firmly believed that what he had done had been for the best.
His feet took him back to his bedroom, where he opened the door quietly, expecting to find his wife asleep, and the light off.
But nothing is ever as expected, now is it?
Mrs. Darling was wide awake, the lamp next to her bed was lit, and she sat up in bed, her back posture perfectly straight against the backboard. Sleep rimmed her eyes, and she looked at her husband questioningly; she knew that something had happened. She just didn't know what.
"George...I heard yelling coming from Wendy's room and it woke me up....what on earth are you and she doing up at this ungodly hour?"
All the feeling rushed back into Mr. Darling's body, and he began to do the unthinkable for a man of this stature-he began to cry.
Now, one would think that if a man of his stature were to cry at all, it would be polite, small tears. But not the tears of a now-exiled father. Indeed, his tears were that like his daughter's; his body shook with his combined grief and guilt.
Mrs. Darling clicked her tongue and motioned for him to come and sit next to her in a motherly fashion, and he complied. She put her hands on his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.
"There, there, dear, it's alright now. Tell me what happened."
With a guilty heart, Mr. Darling proceeded to tell his wife everything....with a few choice edits, of course. When he had finished, Mrs. Darling stared at him, half of her wanting to throw her arms around her poor, disgruntled husband, and half of her wanting to slap him and tell her he deserved what he got. She decided with the former.
"Darling....you poor thing, I've never seen you this upset! I've never known you to be the crying type, George. Such a strong man....oh, there, there! Dry those eyes! "she tsked as a fresh wave of tears came on strong.
Mr. Darling looked at his wife with surprised eyes.
"So you pity me?"
She nodded, and said, "But why do you want her to marry Edward so badly that you would separate Wendy from her...uh...vine-covered lover? It's not that I don't want Wendy to marry him but...Peter's a good boy, I don't think he was out to harm Wendy at all. What's changed in you, George? You used to boast such a brave and kind heart....where's it gone when it comes to Wendy? It's there with everyone but her. What happened?"
George opened his mouth to speak, but then did a double take, pausing to wonder at this question himself. What had changed? This was George Darling, who had once said, 'Dash the neighbors...dash the expense!' and adopted a herd of ruffians suddenly one night, and had supported his daughter's wish to become a novelist. So why was he forcing this upon Wendy and making her hate him with such a passion? He knew the answer.
"Dear....do you remember those dreams that we kept 'locked' in that drawer for so many years? I thought myself brave for not taking those dreams out and benefiting myself, but rather making sure my family was happy. I sacrificed so many dreams to be a bank clerk. When I was promoted, it was harder and harder to keep the drawer closed; in fact it almost seemed as though it was trying to open itself!"
Mrs. Darling looked surprised. She hadn't thought her husband to be one of temptation. He looked like he couldn't go on, so she urged him to do so. "Continue, if you please, George."
"When we met the governor and he expressed the fact that his son wanted to marry Wendy...well, all my resolve just went out the window, and that drawer was completely open! I have no power over keeping it closed anymore. I can't think myself brave anymore; I'm nothing but a bloody coward!"
"There, there, dear, no you're not! It's Wendy that needs to understand here that you are being so brave by keeping this family with a house! What you've done is ensure that no one in this family ever goes hungry again, that makes you such a hero! Wendy's being selfish, she has to accept that she's living in an era where people don't marry for love, they marry to survive. As much as you may think yourself a coward, you're not, George. You're a hero. You're saving this family from disaster, it's Wendy that needs to be put in her place, not you. She'll marry Edward. Don't you worry about a thing."
Mrs. Darling had a rather stony look in her eyes as she continued with her rampant speech.
"You try to sleep, dear. Don't let tonight trouble you, I'll go talk to Wendy right now; I'll try to set things straight."
She wore a plastered smile which didn't reach her eyes. Mr. Darling kissed her gratefully.
"It's no wonder I married you, you amazing woman. Tell Wendy I love her, won't you? Tell her that I'm so sorry for what I've done."
"I will, but you don't need to be sorry about anything," Mrs. Darling said sweetly. She put out the lamp and flounced out of the bedroom, her red dressing gown trailing elegantly. She was more than furious. Her husband meant everything to her, and she was extremely protective of his well being. If Wendy had made him cry, she was going to pay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The door to Wendy's room opened slowly, letting in the warm light from the hallway. It cast a glow over the silent blue-gray of Wendy's lightless room.
"Wendy!" Mrs. Darling said in a commanding voice. "Wendy, wake up!"
She walked over to the bed to find her daughter laying there, the infernal stench of alcohol on her lips. The now-empty bottle lay next to her; most of its contents had spilled all over her lovely starched sheets. Wendy began to open her eyes, and her mother took immediate notice
Mrs. Darling swore under her breath. "You disgust me," she hissed as she pulled off her socks and proceeded to help her change into her nightdress. She lowered her face to Wendy's pale, sickly face. "Just between you and me," she said. "You're father's never going to know about this. You're a selfish little girl for making your father cry like that! Your father, who's the most important thing in the world to me."
She grabbed Wendy's legs and slung them so that she was now fully on the bed, her head resting on the pillow. She moaned softly, and lifted a hand to rub her temple, but her mother grabbed it and forced it down. "Don't move, you ungrateful daughter. You don't deserve to have any relief from whatever pain you're in."
"Mother....it was you? What? Where's fath-"
"Shush! Your father's fine, you've made him feel awfully bad, now he feels just horrible. I hope you're happy, you fool of a daughter."
Wendy looked at her mother, and felt all of the anger she felt towards her father rushing out, and it was replaced by a new burning one towards her mother.
She stretched out her hand and felt for the chain on Wendy's neck. When she had located it, she tore it off, kiss and all. "I'll be taking that," she said softly, and turned on her heel and fled from the room before Wendy could do anything. It wouldn't have mattered, by that time she was unconscious again.
The tyranny of the mother had risen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wendy's eyes fluttered open, and her room seemed to spin around. The first thing she noticed were the morning birds chirping and breaking the silence, and early sun streamed through her window and onto her face, calling her into a new morning. It would have been quite a pleasant scenario, if it hadn't been for the fact that her head ached terribly; her temples were throbbing with a kind of pain she'd never felt before.
'I guess that's what one sip can to do a first-timer,' she thought sadly. If life was to continue the way it was, it would be the first of many times.
The memories of the night before came rushing back to her-first her father, then forgiving her father, then the hatred for her overprotective mother.
She sat up in bed and looked around. No sign that Peter had even been there. Not even her kiss, which her mother had so cruelly torn from her the night before. She felt sickness rising in her throat-a mixture of hatred and the previous night's alcohol. Her stupid, stupid mother had the thing that she held most dear next to the boy himself...and he was gone too.
She would have to go about her wedding duties until Peter returned. He would. She knew he would. He had to, because they were in love.
She would wait.
'Please come and get me sometime BEFORE the wedding, Peter,' she thought to herself resignedly.
But it was time for breakfast. She could wait later.
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Afterthoughts: Hmmm..yah, I can definitely see a more flawed mother than father, can't you? While I was watching the movie, all I could think was "Wow, that woman is gonna snap one day". And she finally has! Just not in the movies. I really hope you enjoyed this time around, I worked quite hard on it. Oh, and Kimberly-A, I emailed you in regards to your beta offer, but you never returned the email, so if you're still interested drop me a note at clefai405@aol.com! Thanks!! I hope you all come back for fifteen!
Mwah!!
I LOVE YOU ALL
~Ellie~
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