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The streets of Northern London were always busy on Saturday morning as the world awoke to a new day, a new opportunity to start over, or so hoped a seventeen-year-old girl.
In exquisite apartment down the street, a beautiful young woman sat in a chair. Hair of russet and eyes of the morning sky, it was an elder Wendy Darling. Still clever and imaginative but a bit more mature. . .most of the time. She lived with her Aunt Millicent and attended St. Georgina's Primary School for Proper Young Ladies; as her second to final year.
Right now, there was loads of tension in the room they were both in. Wendy got along with her Aunt generally but Millicent is greatly strict and at times very ruthless.
She asked vociferously, "How could you do such a thing!"
Wendy said from the cushioned seat, "I don't think it's that great of a deal."
Aunt Millicent's voice grew deafening, "Drawing in your History lesson, Wendy? How are you suppose to be a respected member of society, if you are drawing during your History lesson?"
Wendy did not have an answer for that. The strict woman threw down a piece of paper, making Wendy jump, "What is this suppose to be of?"
Wendy stammered, "A b-boy."
Aunt Millicent's eyes grew skeptical, "A boy?"
Wendy responded meekly, "Uh. . .he's floating over my bed. I dreamed of him once when I was younger."
Aunt Millicent slammed her hand on the table, making Wendy jump once more, "So, you were doodling of a dream you had when you were younger, of a boy floating over your bed?"
Wendy nodded, "Yes, Aunt Millicent."
She asked, her voice calm, "Do proper ladies doodle during a lesson?"
Wendy shook her head, "No, Aunt Millicent."
The graying woman asked, "Then why were you?"
Wendy replied, "I was. . .bored?"
That was the wrong answer.
Aunt Millicent got down to her level, "Wendy, I want you to start growing up, you're a woman now and must start acting like one. No more fantasizing, no more doodling, no more more daydreaming! Don't disappoint your parents and I, girl."
Wendy looked down, murmuring, "Yes, Aunt Millicent."
The woman walked to the door, "We'll be leaving soon, dress more appropriately."
She shut the door behind her and Wendy purposely fell out of her chair; groaning. She landed on her back, her hair fanning out on the carpet.
All of this stress was driving her bloody mad! Wendy closed her eyes and tried to remember that wonderful dream she had, the sounds of her clock calmed her as -
- The walls were glowing brightly, and tiny figurines were floating high above her. She looked ahead and saw a boy, dressed in a white robe. He looked terrified to see her, dreamily, she took his hand and they bowed, hovering up to the ceiling. She saw his face relax and he moved closer, the boy was -
Wendy murmured, "- So familiar." She jolted out of her dream, was it a dream, to her door rattling slightly. The maid, Josie, poked her head in, "There's a man here to see you dearie."
Wendy got up and went downstairs, of course, there stood Byron Buron.
Byron Buron was the son of a very very rich banker and a quite annoying being, he courted Wendy whenever he could. It wasn't that Byron was rude, but he followed her around like a love-sick-extremely-jealous puppy dog. Wendy thought she just wasn't his type; nor hers.
Being polite, she greeted him with a smile, "Goodday Mr. Buron."
Byron handed her a bouquet of roses, "Goodday Wendy."
He leaned in to give her a kiss and Wendy backed away, questioning "What brings you here?"
Byron shrugged, his long dark brown ponytail swaying, "I wanted to see you, aren't you glad I did?"
Wendy smiled once more, "Of course, it's always a pleasure to see you Mr. Buron."
Byron said, his chocolate eyes flashing, "Please, call me Byron, Wendy, stop being so formal."
She straightened up, smiling civilly, "I beg your pardon but I must act mannerly, now, if you'd be so kind as to show your bold self out, I have to leave for the market."
He tipped his hat and left, Wendy closed the door and sighed. She dressed in a blue silk dress and a warm fur jacket with her hair, as always, pulled up. Wendy stepped into the carriage near the street along with Aunt Millicent, who was dressed in so many furs that you couldn't see the outfit she was wearing.
They went down to the market place; as Aunt Millicent went to the bakery, Wendy meandered off; not too far away. She saw her friends around an jewelry store.
Donna, the scarlet-haired seventeen-year-old and Wendy's best friend since they were in diapers, ran over to her, "Wendy, good to see you!"
Wendy hugged her a moment and Susan, her other best friend and a carrot-top as well, hugged her also. The difference between the redheads were Donna had straight darker red hair and smooth ivory skin. Susan had curly brighter red hair and freckles all over her face. Susan said mischeviously, "I heard Byron Buron went over to your house."
Wendy frowned, "Where ever I am, he's there."
They heard someone shouting and Byron was waving over in the distance from another store, Wendy pointed, "See, there he is now. I've got to go."
She walked back to the bakery and stood by the carriage, Aunt Millicent said distantly, exiting the store, "Wendy, I need you to go in the coach and pick up a client for me at the train station. This is very important, make sure you get her here immediately." Wendy nodded unquestioningly and rode to the London Train Station, she fell asleep on the way there and had another dream -
- of sounds of clashing metal echoed, as black shadows fought each other bitterly. The boy was there again, only this time he was covered in leaves and lazily battling a flying man, he didn't seem to be aware of the danger -
- As carriage jerked to a stop and Wendy awoke up, climbing out and hurrying into the bustling station. She saw the train coming in and suddenly spotted the Mill's, they were old friends of the Darling family. Mr. Mill was a affluent investor. Mrs. Mill was the nicest person Wendy had ever known and thought her like a friend.
They saw her too, Mrs. Mill squealed, "Oh my goodness, Wendy, you've grown up! Just look at you, hasn't she Harold?"
Mr. Mill nodded, looking around, "Sandra, your son has disappeared again."
Mrs. Mill rolled her eyes and Wendy asked cooing, she loved children, "Aww, you have a son?" The woman nodded, "Adopted, he is a real handful sometimes. I expect him to be about your age now, what are you, seventeen?"
Wendy blushed discomfited, "Y...Yes."
"Ah ha, there he is. Sweetie, over here!"
Wendy turned around, something shivered up her spine. Across the way, a young man of a great splendor met her gaze. In Wendy's mind, flashes all over her forgotten...memories -
- the bright pink sky in Neverland as the mist settled over - dark red blood on her fingertips - the spinning planets - the glowing of the Fairy tree - the soft kisses on her mouth on the cliff -
Wendy burst through the crowd as he did, pushing through people, her heart pounding in her chest.
She fled into his slender arms and began sobbing joyfully, "Peter Pan! O, Peter!"
Indeed, it was him and Peter was grown-up. He stood taller but had the same gold curls and gorgeous eyes. He swung her around high in the air and kissed her face, "Wendy! My Wendy!" His voice was deeper.
Peter laughed and set her down, looking into her tear-filled eyes.
She whispered, "I thought you would have forgotten me."
He blinked, giving a familiar expression, "Me? Forget? You? Impossible." Peter cradled her face, "I have missed you."
Wendy stepped back, "I've missed you. Peter, you've grown up!" He nodded, "I see you have also. You're more beautiful then I remember Wendy." She colored, "You look handsome." Peter couldn't help but feel giddy once more and embraced her again, "I never thought I would have seen you again!"
Wendy smiled, "So all of our adventures were real! I have dreamed of you so often, but didn't know who you were and thought it all just a dream." He grinned, "What matters now is that we have each other and won't forget." Wendy was now aware of most of the London Train Station staring at them, she whispered, "Peter..."
Wendy slapped her forehead, "The client, oh no, I really have to leave! O Peter, I dread that we'll never see each other again!"
He exclaimed, "Your parents know the Mill's, don't they?" Wendy nodded and Peter stated, "Then shouldn't we'll see each other again?" She breathed relieved, "You're right."
He raised an eyebrow, "Aren't I always?"
Wendy watched as Peter kissed her hand softly, "Till' we meet again, fair Wendy-lady." As she watched him walk away with his 'parents', she had another memory of-
- Her Peter watched her from the doorway, the agony of her wounded stomach overwhelmed her senses. He stepped in and spoke amorously to her, calming her shuddering nerves. She was laying in a bed of leaves and fur, Peter kissed her hand, his eyes told her a hidden message that said -
"Missy!"
Wendy opened her eyes and saw a heavily bejeweled woman, it was Aunt Millicent's client.
Wendy exclaimed, "Oh my, I'm awfully sorry, I -" The woman said distastefully, "Yes, I saw that little display of yours. I certainly hope that it doesn't run in your family."
Wendy blushed humiliated and led her away to the carriage, that evening, Aunt Millicent came to Wendy's room and scold her for being, as she put it, "Irresponsible, inconsiderate, and inhumane!" Wendy ate dinner in her room and did her homework early, to avoid Aunt Millicent's bad side once more. She dressed in an old white gown and felt fourteen again.
Wendy lifted up her undershirt and saw an white scar on her stomach, where Hook had bit her and where the fairies had healed it. She gently ran her fingers across it, the mark was barely visible now. She opened up her French door windows and gazed out into the starry skies.
Wendy found herself looking at the brightest second star to the right and wondered vaguely what Peter was doing.
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