Gone
"But... What happened?"
"He... we don't... oh, my God!"
It was dark and cold in the streets of London. The wind hit the windows with all its rage, dancing with the ice-cold rain. The clouds, once fluffy and snow-white, were monstrous and grey, which turned the sky dark. It seemed that it was all a representation of what had happened hours ago.
There was no one in the streets. Just some silly children who were called by their worried parents. Actually, that was why Wendy had found it strange to hear the doorbell rang if she, her parents and her brothers were there in the warmth of their house. She also found it strange that it was actually Mrs. Wiseman who lied in front of the house, freezing. She had a beige dress and a long coat covered her from head to toes, we could say.
"Please, Mrs. Wiseman, calm down. And come in, you must be freezing." Wendy helped the lady in and took her umbrella and her coat. Then she led her to the sitting room. It was desert though it was the hottest place in that house. Her brothers were upstairs, in their room, her father was in his bureau and her mother and Aunt Millicent were probably in her parents' bedroom.
"Thank you, Miss Darling..."
"Call me Wendy, please."
"Well, thank you very much. I was freezing."
"The weather's strange. This morning it was sunny and now... it's horrible!"
"And it certainly doesn't help you. I heard you were sick."
"Yes, I was, but strangely I got better. I'm still a bit sick, but... Anyway, what were you about to tell me, ma'am?"
"I don't know exactly when did it happened. I just know that it was this morning. You know, Peter had arrived home and went to his bedroom. All I know is that when I called him for lunch he didn't answer. Then I went to his bedroom and... he wasn't there... so... I wondered if you knew what could've happened..."
"But... didn't he just go out for a walk or something?" Wendy asked quickly. A sharp pain grew in her stomach as she watched Mrs. Wiseman, who had her eyes filled with tears.
"No... he couldn't. I would know... I would hear the door... or someone would tell me."
The pain grew bigger and bigger, affecting Wendy's heart. Maybe Peter was at home, probably hidden... but, no, Peter had grown... he wouldn't play those childish games. "Then, how did he come out of the house?"
"I remember the... window was opened... but he wouldn't... what if he was kidnapped?"
"No, Mrs. Wiseman, Peter couldn't be kidnapped. He knows how to defend himself, certainly."
"Then, where could he be?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Wiseman, but as soon as I know anything I'll tell it to you."
"Thank you, my dear." She led the lady to the doorway and said goodbye.
Oh, lies. That's what she had just done – lied. That was a horrible, mean thing to do. That was a thing ladies shouldn't do. But she couldn't tell Mrs. Wiseman she thought Peter was in... but he couldn't be. She knew Peter had left everything, even Tinkerbell, to grow up, so he couldn't fly. But what if she was wrong?
"Come on, Wendy, you can't think about it. He probably just went out for a walk and Mrs. Wiseman didn't realise it." She repeated to herself.
But what if he hadn't gone out for a walk? What if he had flown to Neverland?
"Wendy! Don't be so stupid. That place doesn't exist!"
Didn't it? Then, how come did se meet the Lost Boys? How come did she know Peter?
"A mere coincidence, that's. Come off it, Wendy, you're grown-up, you don't have time to think about these stupid games!"
Tears started to form in her eyes. What was happening with her? What was that battle between two sides of her to?
"Wendy, mother-"Nibs stopped talked when he saw Wendy lying in her bed with tears in her eyes. "Hey, what is it, Wendy? Why are you crying?"
Wendy did not answer. She was too confused to think and she couldn't speak even if she wanted for it seemed that her voice had gone away to find Peter.
Nibs just came to her bed and sat near Wendy. As long as he did this the rest of the boys entered the room with confused expressions and sat on the ground surrounding her bed.
Wendy didn't react and just closed her eyes. The boys didn't walk away and simply stared at Wendy, waiting for her to tell them what was happening. They stayed like that for a while, Wendy pretending she was asleep, the boys trying to make her speak. It was Michael who broke the silence.
"Look! Sleeping Beauty doesn't want to wake and there's no prince to kiss her!"
Wendy opened her eyes slowly, a small smile forming in her lips. She sat on her bed and spoke.
"Do you want to hear a story?" Wendy couldn't believe it. After two years of trying to take her fantasies away, two years of stopping telling stories. It had been so tough and now she was restarting it. She couldn't do this. She couldn't run from the truth and hide in her stories.
The boys were static. They didn't moved for a while and if they did was just to pinch themselves. In the past two years they had always tried to make Wendy tell them a story every night and had failed. Now, she was offering them a story, after two years saying no.
"Of course we do." They said after some minutes, smiling. And then they sat again, quietly, waiting for the story.
"There was once a girl who lived with her parents and her brothers. She loved to tell them stories about pirates and mermaids and princesses. Every night she would tell them different stories and they would hear them. Their favourite was called 'Cinderella and the Pirates'. Well, one night when she was sleeping she heard a noise. She opened her eyes and saw a boy. That boy was Peter Pan..." she kept on telling the story. No, it wasn't just the story. It was her story.
Though they already knew that story, the boys kept listening it, like it was a brand new story. And it was. Not the start, but the end.
"... Peter never came to see Wendy again, but she always waited for him. Every night she would open the window and lay near it, looking at the stars, trying to find her Peter. But she couldn't live like that. She had to grow up. So, in the night before her fourteenth birthday, she closed the window and she did something she should have never done – she threw Peter's acorn away. Two years after that had happened, the girl saw Peter again. But he wasn't the same, he had grown..." Wendy's voice was starting to fade. If that was her story, it would never have a happy ending. And all stories should have a happy ending, she thought. Though she kept telling it, fighting the tears that were trying to fall.
The boys were listening, but it was quite strange. They were used to add details but they couldn't do it now. This was a real story, this was happening to Wendy. Their smiles had vanished and, though they fought them, tears formed in their eyes.
"... When she heard that Peter wasn't at home, she knew it – he was back to Neverland. But she didn't tell it to Mrs. Wiseman, though she hated lying. When the lady went home she went to her bedroom and sat in her bed. She was confused. She knew Peter had no contact with Tinkerbell. But she was sure she had gone to Neverland. She wanted to go to him and correct the mistakes she had done. But how could she fly?" Wendy stopped and looked at her brothers. They were trying hard not to cry. She felt guilty. She had been the one who had started that. She was used to see them happy after she told a story, but now they were almost crying. She was almost crying too. She needed to stop the story. After all, the story was in that very point so she couldn't find a way to end it.
"That... was a sad story. We don't like sad stories." Said Tootles.
"Are you mad at me?" she was a little girl again. A little girl who had made the mistake of telling a sad story. A little girl who was afraid her brothers were mad at her. She was sixteen no longer. She was ten, she was eight, she was four...
"No, we're not mad at you."
"We're going to help you!"
"That story is going to have the most beautiful of all ends!"
Wendy smiled. At least she could count on them. They would always be there to protect. She knew it. "Do you know any way of contacting Tinkerbell?" Wendy's smile didn't fade when she saw the sad looks on the boys' face. They didn't know but it wasn't their fault if Peter had ran away. It was her fault so she should go to him by herself, then.
AN: Hello, guys! Wait... one... two... three... I FINNALLY UPDATED!!! Well, I have good and bad news. First, THE BAD ONES: I think we're coming to an end. starts crying madly until her brother comes and hits her
THE GOOD NEWS: I'm on holidays now so I guess you won't have to wait two/three months for the next chapter. And if you really liked my fanfics, here is my upcoming fanfics list:
- I'm planning to write another fanfic on Peter Pan (I think it'll be a humour one);
- I'm thinking about translating my Portuguese H.P. fanfics (well, not fanfics, they're shorts and songfics);
- I may write a big fanfic about Harry Potter (and some little ones – the problem is I support Harry/Hermione);
- I've been thinking about a shortfic for His Dark Materials.
CLUES FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER(S): If you like Coldplay and/or Avril Lavigne you'll probably like the next two chapters. Have you seen Shrek 2? Have you liked it? If you do, you'll like a bit of what may happen in the next chapters (yeah, we'll have a bit of fun)
QUESTIONS: Do you know anything about the release of the DVD (Peter Pan) in Portugal? If you do, please e-mail me.
THANX to everyone who reviewed, thanx to everyone who read this (and didn't review), thanx to everyone who would like to read this (but didn't), thanx to everyone who read this but thought it was a st (at least they read it, huh?), thanx to my friends, thanx to my teachers (no, I got it wrong, I don't wanna thank them), thanx to myself... (OKAY, it ends here, no more thanx, I'm not receiving an Oscar)
Well, see ya next chapter... 'Till then HUGS'N'THIMBLES (this is specially for Jeremy).
Annie
"But... What happened?"
"He... we don't... oh, my God!"
It was dark and cold in the streets of London. The wind hit the windows with all its rage, dancing with the ice-cold rain. The clouds, once fluffy and snow-white, were monstrous and grey, which turned the sky dark. It seemed that it was all a representation of what had happened hours ago.
There was no one in the streets. Just some silly children who were called by their worried parents. Actually, that was why Wendy had found it strange to hear the doorbell rang if she, her parents and her brothers were there in the warmth of their house. She also found it strange that it was actually Mrs. Wiseman who lied in front of the house, freezing. She had a beige dress and a long coat covered her from head to toes, we could say.
"Please, Mrs. Wiseman, calm down. And come in, you must be freezing." Wendy helped the lady in and took her umbrella and her coat. Then she led her to the sitting room. It was desert though it was the hottest place in that house. Her brothers were upstairs, in their room, her father was in his bureau and her mother and Aunt Millicent were probably in her parents' bedroom.
"Thank you, Miss Darling..."
"Call me Wendy, please."
"Well, thank you very much. I was freezing."
"The weather's strange. This morning it was sunny and now... it's horrible!"
"And it certainly doesn't help you. I heard you were sick."
"Yes, I was, but strangely I got better. I'm still a bit sick, but... Anyway, what were you about to tell me, ma'am?"
"I don't know exactly when did it happened. I just know that it was this morning. You know, Peter had arrived home and went to his bedroom. All I know is that when I called him for lunch he didn't answer. Then I went to his bedroom and... he wasn't there... so... I wondered if you knew what could've happened..."
"But... didn't he just go out for a walk or something?" Wendy asked quickly. A sharp pain grew in her stomach as she watched Mrs. Wiseman, who had her eyes filled with tears.
"No... he couldn't. I would know... I would hear the door... or someone would tell me."
The pain grew bigger and bigger, affecting Wendy's heart. Maybe Peter was at home, probably hidden... but, no, Peter had grown... he wouldn't play those childish games. "Then, how did he come out of the house?"
"I remember the... window was opened... but he wouldn't... what if he was kidnapped?"
"No, Mrs. Wiseman, Peter couldn't be kidnapped. He knows how to defend himself, certainly."
"Then, where could he be?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Wiseman, but as soon as I know anything I'll tell it to you."
"Thank you, my dear." She led the lady to the doorway and said goodbye.
Oh, lies. That's what she had just done – lied. That was a horrible, mean thing to do. That was a thing ladies shouldn't do. But she couldn't tell Mrs. Wiseman she thought Peter was in... but he couldn't be. She knew Peter had left everything, even Tinkerbell, to grow up, so he couldn't fly. But what if she was wrong?
"Come on, Wendy, you can't think about it. He probably just went out for a walk and Mrs. Wiseman didn't realise it." She repeated to herself.
But what if he hadn't gone out for a walk? What if he had flown to Neverland?
"Wendy! Don't be so stupid. That place doesn't exist!"
Didn't it? Then, how come did se meet the Lost Boys? How come did she know Peter?
"A mere coincidence, that's. Come off it, Wendy, you're grown-up, you don't have time to think about these stupid games!"
Tears started to form in her eyes. What was happening with her? What was that battle between two sides of her to?
"Wendy, mother-"Nibs stopped talked when he saw Wendy lying in her bed with tears in her eyes. "Hey, what is it, Wendy? Why are you crying?"
Wendy did not answer. She was too confused to think and she couldn't speak even if she wanted for it seemed that her voice had gone away to find Peter.
Nibs just came to her bed and sat near Wendy. As long as he did this the rest of the boys entered the room with confused expressions and sat on the ground surrounding her bed.
Wendy didn't react and just closed her eyes. The boys didn't walk away and simply stared at Wendy, waiting for her to tell them what was happening. They stayed like that for a while, Wendy pretending she was asleep, the boys trying to make her speak. It was Michael who broke the silence.
"Look! Sleeping Beauty doesn't want to wake and there's no prince to kiss her!"
Wendy opened her eyes slowly, a small smile forming in her lips. She sat on her bed and spoke.
"Do you want to hear a story?" Wendy couldn't believe it. After two years of trying to take her fantasies away, two years of stopping telling stories. It had been so tough and now she was restarting it. She couldn't do this. She couldn't run from the truth and hide in her stories.
The boys were static. They didn't moved for a while and if they did was just to pinch themselves. In the past two years they had always tried to make Wendy tell them a story every night and had failed. Now, she was offering them a story, after two years saying no.
"Of course we do." They said after some minutes, smiling. And then they sat again, quietly, waiting for the story.
"There was once a girl who lived with her parents and her brothers. She loved to tell them stories about pirates and mermaids and princesses. Every night she would tell them different stories and they would hear them. Their favourite was called 'Cinderella and the Pirates'. Well, one night when she was sleeping she heard a noise. She opened her eyes and saw a boy. That boy was Peter Pan..." she kept on telling the story. No, it wasn't just the story. It was her story.
Though they already knew that story, the boys kept listening it, like it was a brand new story. And it was. Not the start, but the end.
"... Peter never came to see Wendy again, but she always waited for him. Every night she would open the window and lay near it, looking at the stars, trying to find her Peter. But she couldn't live like that. She had to grow up. So, in the night before her fourteenth birthday, she closed the window and she did something she should have never done – she threw Peter's acorn away. Two years after that had happened, the girl saw Peter again. But he wasn't the same, he had grown..." Wendy's voice was starting to fade. If that was her story, it would never have a happy ending. And all stories should have a happy ending, she thought. Though she kept telling it, fighting the tears that were trying to fall.
The boys were listening, but it was quite strange. They were used to add details but they couldn't do it now. This was a real story, this was happening to Wendy. Their smiles had vanished and, though they fought them, tears formed in their eyes.
"... When she heard that Peter wasn't at home, she knew it – he was back to Neverland. But she didn't tell it to Mrs. Wiseman, though she hated lying. When the lady went home she went to her bedroom and sat in her bed. She was confused. She knew Peter had no contact with Tinkerbell. But she was sure she had gone to Neverland. She wanted to go to him and correct the mistakes she had done. But how could she fly?" Wendy stopped and looked at her brothers. They were trying hard not to cry. She felt guilty. She had been the one who had started that. She was used to see them happy after she told a story, but now they were almost crying. She was almost crying too. She needed to stop the story. After all, the story was in that very point so she couldn't find a way to end it.
"That... was a sad story. We don't like sad stories." Said Tootles.
"Are you mad at me?" she was a little girl again. A little girl who had made the mistake of telling a sad story. A little girl who was afraid her brothers were mad at her. She was sixteen no longer. She was ten, she was eight, she was four...
"No, we're not mad at you."
"We're going to help you!"
"That story is going to have the most beautiful of all ends!"
Wendy smiled. At least she could count on them. They would always be there to protect. She knew it. "Do you know any way of contacting Tinkerbell?" Wendy's smile didn't fade when she saw the sad looks on the boys' face. They didn't know but it wasn't their fault if Peter had ran away. It was her fault so she should go to him by herself, then.
AN: Hello, guys! Wait... one... two... three... I FINNALLY UPDATED!!! Well, I have good and bad news. First, THE BAD ONES: I think we're coming to an end. starts crying madly until her brother comes and hits her
THE GOOD NEWS: I'm on holidays now so I guess you won't have to wait two/three months for the next chapter. And if you really liked my fanfics, here is my upcoming fanfics list:
- I'm planning to write another fanfic on Peter Pan (I think it'll be a humour one);
- I'm thinking about translating my Portuguese H.P. fanfics (well, not fanfics, they're shorts and songfics);
- I may write a big fanfic about Harry Potter (and some little ones – the problem is I support Harry/Hermione);
- I've been thinking about a shortfic for His Dark Materials.
CLUES FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER(S): If you like Coldplay and/or Avril Lavigne you'll probably like the next two chapters. Have you seen Shrek 2? Have you liked it? If you do, you'll like a bit of what may happen in the next chapters (yeah, we'll have a bit of fun)
QUESTIONS: Do you know anything about the release of the DVD (Peter Pan) in Portugal? If you do, please e-mail me.
THANX to everyone who reviewed, thanx to everyone who read this (and didn't review), thanx to everyone who would like to read this (but didn't), thanx to everyone who read this but thought it was a st (at least they read it, huh?), thanx to my friends, thanx to my teachers (no, I got it wrong, I don't wanna thank them), thanx to myself... (OKAY, it ends here, no more thanx, I'm not receiving an Oscar)
Well, see ya next chapter... 'Till then HUGS'N'THIMBLES (this is specially for Jeremy).
Annie