Neverland Away
Apparently nobody is reading this, but I couldn't end this story on such a depressing note, so I wrote this anyway. If anyone *does* happen to stumble upon this, leave a review PLEASE! It can be as simple as "hey, I know that this story exists." Thanks.
Chapter 5: The Biggest Pretend
Wendy was suddenly very angry at herself. Things didn't feel right, and she was trying to make it so they would. Children thought growing up meant the end of make believe, it didn't. Just the end of the fun kind.
"I have toÐ" Wendy broke away from her dance partner. "I'm just so thirsty."
Wendy excused herself and escaped. It was very hard to give your heart away when someone else already had it. Mrs. Darling had been watching her daughter intently, and decided that they needed to talk.
She walked up beside Wendy, and handed her a slice of cake. She was trying to read what Wendy was thinking, but was unfortunately failing. ÒIs something troubling you?Ó she asked Wendy.
Wendy didnÕt know why the question shocked her. She was always so sure everyone could see what she was thinking, it must be written all over her face. But then she would return from Neverland to a world that seemed lackluster in comparison, and they wouldnÕt see it, how suddenly the world was simply a place again.
The boys had their make-believe, their fun and games. Her father had his work. They were busy, why would they notice. However, now her mother had asked her, she had noticed something. Could Wendy lie, could she just pretend that everything was fine? That the thought of replacing fun with work didnÕt make her feel as if her heart was shriveling into an apricot, or a prune, or any sort of dried fruit. Actually, Wendy had thought a long while during her math lessons as to the object which her heart was becoming. SheÕd finally decided on a dried fruit since it was more practical. Someone could eat it, if need be. Adults were always doing that; thinking practically.
Wendy realized she and her mother had been simply looking at each other for a little bit, both searching for responses.
Finally Wendy spoke, fear in her voice, which was barely above a whisper. ÒDoes it hurt to grow up? Or do you stop feeling it?Ó
But before her mother could answer a crash was heard. It came from the bushes outside. A woman shrieked. "A boy just fell from the sky!"
Wendy ran over to the window to see what it was. The clean man intercepted her path, however. "It could be a burglar. It's too dangerous for you.
Wendy flared up indignantly. "Pardon me?! This is my house, not yours. I'll do what I please in it. And now what I please is to go to the window. If you, could now, please, move out of my way, that would be appreciated."
The young man stood astounded by what had just happened, until Wendy grew impatient and maneuvered herself around him. By that time, the boys, who had been in the nursery, but heard the commotion, had gotten down stairs. "What's going on?" One asked.
Wendy peered outside, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. Her father came up beside her and asked if she saw anything.
"I can't tell. Can I go outside and see?" Wendy asked.
Her father looked troubled. "I would advise against it, Mr. Darling." a party go-er said "It's funny business, a boy just falling from the sky like that."
Wendy's eyes lit up.
"The sky?" John asked.
"A boy?" added Michael.
Grins broke out on the boys faces. "Peter's returned!" they cried. "I knew he would!"
Chatter broke out among the guests. "They know him?" "How scandalous!" "What in the heavens?"
Mr. Darling heard them, of course, but he had decided what was important to him in life, and didn't care what his guests would think when he said "I'll go with you." to his daughter.
Wendy and George slowly opened the front door, George, still a timid man, poked his head out calling "I'm well equipped to deal with the likes of a burglar!" Wendy rolled her eyes, and squeezed out next to her father.
"Hello, is anybody there?" She called. It was followed by silence, and then the distant sound of a buggy several blocks away. Wendy looked into the bushes under the windows, and she saw the soft glow of the lights reflecting off gold skin. "Look." Wendy said pointing "someone is over there."
She hoped beyond hope it was Peter, but he had just been back so recently. She also feared beyond fear it was him. What would seeing him do to her. She understood that growing up had to be done. In fact, it had already started and there was no going back now.
"It is a boy!" cried her father running toward the unconscious body in the bushes. He reached Peter calling out to his daughter "He's alive, but unconscious. I can't imagine... falling like that? From where? It's not-" he paused, turning to look at Wendy "Those stories you used to tell, this isn't the young man from them?"
Wendy looked at her father a little surprised that he seemed ready to believe that they were more than just stories. "WellÐ" and then a moan from Peter. Wendy ran over to him. "We should get him inside. It's him, it's Peter, it's okay, but we have to get him inside.
Mr. Darling nodded and motioned for Wendy to come help him lift Peter up. They did, and together they pulled him out of the bushes, and then up the stairs back into the house.
"I'm sorry, this party will have to end early. This boy here has been injured. We have to attend to this. I'm so sorry." he said, laying Peter on the couch. To his surprise there were only a few murmurs of disgust amidst the sound of people declaring how caring the Darling's were for helping the mysterious boy.
After all the guests had left, Wendy returned to the living room with a wet cloth. "Peter, can you hear me?" She asked, bending down to sit on the floor beside the couch. She reached out and grabbed his hand "It will be alright, Peter." She whispered "You just have to be strong."
An eye opened. "I tried." he apologized, drifting back to sleep.
"Peter! You haven't failed! Please, don't give up." she cried.
Her father came running back into the room. "We should probably take him to the doctor, he's not looking well."
"He'll be okay, won't he, father?" Michael asked, fright evident in his voice.
"I'd imagine so, as long as we get him the proper help." he encouraged. "I'll take him now. John, help me get him to the carriage."
"Can I come?" Wendy asked, but her father thought it would be best if she stayed behind. After he and John had left she and Michael stayed up nervously.
"Why don't you two get some sleep. There probably won't be any news until morning." Mrs. Darling suggested.
"I couldn't get any sleep," Wendy explained "Not even if you hit me in the head with a rock... a large one."
Her mother gave a small laugh "So, you know that boy? From where?"
"Oh, mother," Michael whined "Don't start with that." There was silence for a while until finally Michael asked Wendy if she would wake him as soon as any news came, and he headed up for bed.
Wendy sat still reflecting on Peter until she realized she was about to cry. "Need any cleaning to be done?" Wendy asked getting up and turning her back to fix the pillows, but her voice betrayed her distress.
Her mother froze and looked at her daughter. Suddenly she realized, however mature Wendy could be, however astounding her grasp of adult concepts was, she was still only a girl, and she was frightened. But it was more than just the boy, she had been acting strangely all night- no, longer than that, though she had no idea how long.
Wendy realized her mother had reached out and engulfed her in a huge hug. Wendy was thankful for the comfort, she felt safe. But then her mother grabbed her shoulders and held her at arms length to look her in the eye.
ÒSometimes,Ó she stated Òit does hurt. And itÕs hard... But itÕs worth it, I can promise you that. The understanding you get, a child canÕt have.Ó She stopped to try and tell if Wendy really understood her, finally she continued ÒBut thereÕs something you have to remember, there are two ways to grow up, and this is something my mother told me when I was little, and didn't really understand until just now. One is, you can kill the little child in you,Ó the Hook method, Wendy thought Òor, the other, you can let her live... and grow. This girl...Ó she said, kissing WendyÕs forehead ÒdoesnÕt ever have to go away.Ó
Wendy clung to her mother as a tear slid down her face.
TBC
Apparently nobody is reading this, but I couldn't end this story on such a depressing note, so I wrote this anyway. If anyone *does* happen to stumble upon this, leave a review PLEASE! It can be as simple as "hey, I know that this story exists." Thanks.
Chapter 5: The Biggest Pretend
Wendy was suddenly very angry at herself. Things didn't feel right, and she was trying to make it so they would. Children thought growing up meant the end of make believe, it didn't. Just the end of the fun kind.
"I have toÐ" Wendy broke away from her dance partner. "I'm just so thirsty."
Wendy excused herself and escaped. It was very hard to give your heart away when someone else already had it. Mrs. Darling had been watching her daughter intently, and decided that they needed to talk.
She walked up beside Wendy, and handed her a slice of cake. She was trying to read what Wendy was thinking, but was unfortunately failing. ÒIs something troubling you?Ó she asked Wendy.
Wendy didnÕt know why the question shocked her. She was always so sure everyone could see what she was thinking, it must be written all over her face. But then she would return from Neverland to a world that seemed lackluster in comparison, and they wouldnÕt see it, how suddenly the world was simply a place again.
The boys had their make-believe, their fun and games. Her father had his work. They were busy, why would they notice. However, now her mother had asked her, she had noticed something. Could Wendy lie, could she just pretend that everything was fine? That the thought of replacing fun with work didnÕt make her feel as if her heart was shriveling into an apricot, or a prune, or any sort of dried fruit. Actually, Wendy had thought a long while during her math lessons as to the object which her heart was becoming. SheÕd finally decided on a dried fruit since it was more practical. Someone could eat it, if need be. Adults were always doing that; thinking practically.
Wendy realized she and her mother had been simply looking at each other for a little bit, both searching for responses.
Finally Wendy spoke, fear in her voice, which was barely above a whisper. ÒDoes it hurt to grow up? Or do you stop feeling it?Ó
But before her mother could answer a crash was heard. It came from the bushes outside. A woman shrieked. "A boy just fell from the sky!"
Wendy ran over to the window to see what it was. The clean man intercepted her path, however. "It could be a burglar. It's too dangerous for you.
Wendy flared up indignantly. "Pardon me?! This is my house, not yours. I'll do what I please in it. And now what I please is to go to the window. If you, could now, please, move out of my way, that would be appreciated."
The young man stood astounded by what had just happened, until Wendy grew impatient and maneuvered herself around him. By that time, the boys, who had been in the nursery, but heard the commotion, had gotten down stairs. "What's going on?" One asked.
Wendy peered outside, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. Her father came up beside her and asked if she saw anything.
"I can't tell. Can I go outside and see?" Wendy asked.
Her father looked troubled. "I would advise against it, Mr. Darling." a party go-er said "It's funny business, a boy just falling from the sky like that."
Wendy's eyes lit up.
"The sky?" John asked.
"A boy?" added Michael.
Grins broke out on the boys faces. "Peter's returned!" they cried. "I knew he would!"
Chatter broke out among the guests. "They know him?" "How scandalous!" "What in the heavens?"
Mr. Darling heard them, of course, but he had decided what was important to him in life, and didn't care what his guests would think when he said "I'll go with you." to his daughter.
Wendy and George slowly opened the front door, George, still a timid man, poked his head out calling "I'm well equipped to deal with the likes of a burglar!" Wendy rolled her eyes, and squeezed out next to her father.
"Hello, is anybody there?" She called. It was followed by silence, and then the distant sound of a buggy several blocks away. Wendy looked into the bushes under the windows, and she saw the soft glow of the lights reflecting off gold skin. "Look." Wendy said pointing "someone is over there."
She hoped beyond hope it was Peter, but he had just been back so recently. She also feared beyond fear it was him. What would seeing him do to her. She understood that growing up had to be done. In fact, it had already started and there was no going back now.
"It is a boy!" cried her father running toward the unconscious body in the bushes. He reached Peter calling out to his daughter "He's alive, but unconscious. I can't imagine... falling like that? From where? It's not-" he paused, turning to look at Wendy "Those stories you used to tell, this isn't the young man from them?"
Wendy looked at her father a little surprised that he seemed ready to believe that they were more than just stories. "WellÐ" and then a moan from Peter. Wendy ran over to him. "We should get him inside. It's him, it's Peter, it's okay, but we have to get him inside.
Mr. Darling nodded and motioned for Wendy to come help him lift Peter up. They did, and together they pulled him out of the bushes, and then up the stairs back into the house.
"I'm sorry, this party will have to end early. This boy here has been injured. We have to attend to this. I'm so sorry." he said, laying Peter on the couch. To his surprise there were only a few murmurs of disgust amidst the sound of people declaring how caring the Darling's were for helping the mysterious boy.
After all the guests had left, Wendy returned to the living room with a wet cloth. "Peter, can you hear me?" She asked, bending down to sit on the floor beside the couch. She reached out and grabbed his hand "It will be alright, Peter." She whispered "You just have to be strong."
An eye opened. "I tried." he apologized, drifting back to sleep.
"Peter! You haven't failed! Please, don't give up." she cried.
Her father came running back into the room. "We should probably take him to the doctor, he's not looking well."
"He'll be okay, won't he, father?" Michael asked, fright evident in his voice.
"I'd imagine so, as long as we get him the proper help." he encouraged. "I'll take him now. John, help me get him to the carriage."
"Can I come?" Wendy asked, but her father thought it would be best if she stayed behind. After he and John had left she and Michael stayed up nervously.
"Why don't you two get some sleep. There probably won't be any news until morning." Mrs. Darling suggested.
"I couldn't get any sleep," Wendy explained "Not even if you hit me in the head with a rock... a large one."
Her mother gave a small laugh "So, you know that boy? From where?"
"Oh, mother," Michael whined "Don't start with that." There was silence for a while until finally Michael asked Wendy if she would wake him as soon as any news came, and he headed up for bed.
Wendy sat still reflecting on Peter until she realized she was about to cry. "Need any cleaning to be done?" Wendy asked getting up and turning her back to fix the pillows, but her voice betrayed her distress.
Her mother froze and looked at her daughter. Suddenly she realized, however mature Wendy could be, however astounding her grasp of adult concepts was, she was still only a girl, and she was frightened. But it was more than just the boy, she had been acting strangely all night- no, longer than that, though she had no idea how long.
Wendy realized her mother had reached out and engulfed her in a huge hug. Wendy was thankful for the comfort, she felt safe. But then her mother grabbed her shoulders and held her at arms length to look her in the eye.
ÒSometimes,Ó she stated Òit does hurt. And itÕs hard... But itÕs worth it, I can promise you that. The understanding you get, a child canÕt have.Ó She stopped to try and tell if Wendy really understood her, finally she continued ÒBut thereÕs something you have to remember, there are two ways to grow up, and this is something my mother told me when I was little, and didn't really understand until just now. One is, you can kill the little child in you,Ó the Hook method, Wendy thought Òor, the other, you can let her live... and grow. This girl...Ó she said, kissing WendyÕs forehead ÒdoesnÕt ever have to go away.Ó
Wendy clung to her mother as a tear slid down her face.
TBC