Wendy Darling lay on her bed with a frown etched onto her face. It had been three years now (she was fourteen), and Peter still had not returned. And, though she would not admit it to herself, she was beginning to think that she'd made him up in the first place.

"No! I know that he is real! I know it!" she exclaimed to herself softly. But the words were hollow and dispassionate, even to her own ears. Gazing out the window longingly she tried to grasp on to the memories she had of neverland, of Peter.

Only a year ago these thoughts would send her into fits of weeping, lasting days on end. Then one day her brother, John, had sat on her bed as she was crying and whispered to her.

"Wendy…" he had said cautiously, "I know it must hurt but, well, Peter's probably not coming back." Wendy had buried her head in the pillow, unresponsive. "You know how he is. He'll never be more than a boy! And boys don't usually keep promises. Nor do they return to a place that will only remind them of something they can't have." His words had stabbed at her heart bitterly, and she remembered feeling his comforting hand on her shoulder as she shook with sobs. "I hate to see you like this, Wendy. I don't want you to cry anymore. Forget him, Wendy. Forget him and move on."

His words haunted her now, as she watched the falling snow with painfully dry eyes. 'I can barely remember his face anymore…everything about neverland is fading from my memory. Soon I won't remember anything at all' she thought. It was a sad concept, and yet Wendy secretly relished the idea of being happy again.

"Wendy?" the voice shook her from her reverie.

"Yes?" she replied, tugging the covers closer to her chin.

"It's time for dinner! Are you coming? Or are you still sick?" Ah, yes. She had pretended to have a sore throat so as to be able to be alone with her thoughts. Heaving a sigh she decided she really wasn't hungry, and needed some more time by herself.

"Sorry, John!" she called out, "But my throat really hurts! I think I'll just stay in bed tonight!"

 His footsteps pounding down the stairs were her assent. Her eyes swept the room approvingly, she no longer had swords and toys lying about, but rows and rows of books stacked in various bookshelves. Plunging her hand under the mattress she took out the thick green diary her mother had given her for her fourteenth birthday. But she did not use it as a diary. No, she used it to write 'The Adventures of Peter Pan'. Flipping to the most recent page she read it swiftly. Many of her stories included romance, with Peter always being the hero and saving the girl, and staying with her forever. If only they could be true.

            e

"OW!" Peter Pan cried out as his smacked resoundingly on the doorway to his room. Rubbing the sore spot and frowning he ducked under the archway and plopped onto his now too small bed.

"Tink, what's happening to me?" he asked desperately. The fairy fluttered in front of him, her golden dust shining around her. Smiling she whispered to him in her high, sugary voice.

"NO!" he bellowed, bolting off the bed and hitting his head hard on the ceiling. "Owwww" he sunk down onto the bed again, groaning in pain. "I am NOT growing up Tink! It's not possible! I DO NOT GROW UP!"

 Tinkerbell flew to the opposite side of the room, astonished at Peter's rage. Surely he could see what had been happening to him these past years? How he had not remained a small boy, but indeed had begun to grow into a handsome man. She yelled this at him, scowling at how her ears still rung with his viscous outburst.

"No, no, no, no, no, no" he repeated quietly to himself, dropping his head into his large, strong hands. "It can't be. I can't be growing up. It isn't fair!"

But he knew that he was. He had known for a while now, ever since his clothes had begun to get too tight, the trees seeming smaller. Not to mention the fact that his voice had broken and grown deep and rough. He did not like this, he did not like this at all.

"How, Tink? How has this happened? Who did this to me?" he asked, looking at Tinkerbell with sadness. She didn't say anything, but her eyes conveyed the truth.

"Wendy…" he whispered.

I know, it's short, but believe me the next chapter is gonna be much longer. This one was just an introduction to the story, really.