I watched the new Peter Pan movie and suddenly became very inspired. this is one of two one-shot fics I wrote within the half hour after watching the movie. it started out my pov, but magically became that of a 30 year old british woman's. crazyworld.
It was quite a shock to discover that Peter Pan was not a real boy. All my life I had grown up
hearing stories of his wonderful larks. They shaped my childhood, and much of my youth, for that
matter. I had always believed with all my heart that he was real, that someday he would come
into my window searching for his lost shadow. Wendy was so lucky. I just wonder how long it
took her to realize the truth; that she really wasn't ready to grow up. No one ever is. Anyway, I
kept that window open until I was sixteen, hoping, against hope, that he might come to me. Of
course, at that time I never consciously believed that it was true, at least not out loud, but in the
back of my mind I really did wish for him. So, as you can imagine, it was indeed an enormous
upset to discover the truth. I don't remember any real epiphany in which, in one clear moment I
understood I was wasting my hopes and energy, I simply remember a time in which I became
sullen and thoughtful, and in general unhappy somewhere near my seventeenth birthday. I know,
I know, it sounds exactly like a phase every other girl or boy who walks this earth has
experienced. But you must understand, at the time I felt like this was far, far different than other
"phases" it was in this period that I realized completely, even into the deepest most cobwebby
sections of my mind that were still holding on to Peter, that Peter was indeed fiction. Not only did
my assured belief in these adventures disappear, but also my belief fairy godmothers, magic,
wishes coming true, and charming princes, all went with him. It was a very jarring discovery that
left me quite unhappy. Now, in hindsight, I know I was not quite so different from other sixteen
year olds as I thought I was. I now know that everyone goes through this... disillusionment, this
gain of ignorance (which can be corrected eventually), but tragic loss of innocence (which never
can). I know now that Peter Pan is indeed a real boy simply because of people like me who
keep him alive through the innocence of our children. And as I watch my daughter open her
bedroom window I feel a pang of sadness, knowing that someday, she too will have to grow up
and discover the truth. Knowing that really, no one is ever ready to grow up.
yay. please review, my friends!
