This here is a snippet of a beginning chapter that I am currently working on for a story that I have been thinking about writing for some time now. Perhaps the plot has been done before but I want to write this not for the plot but for the character development and insight into the world of Neverland. I put it up now for critics and criticisms of any kind and to just get a general idea of the temperature of the Peter Pan fan fiction water out there. So love it, hate it, rip it to shreds truly I am open for all.

Note that I do not own Peter Pan or the world of Neverland, the title was taken from Josh Gorban's beautiful song titled the same it means "Song to Life" roughly translated. Don't sue me I'm poor.

Updated Author's Note: I just wanted to put it out there that I am currently looking for a Beta Reader for this little endeavor so if anyone is interested please e-mail me at Thank you

Canto Alla Vita

Peter Pan the Tale Continues….

London England 2002 the old Darling house is no longer owned by the Darlings they have long since passed from mind and memory

Faded to the pages of stories like those once told in the nursery so long ago.

Few stories of Peter are still told, the times have not been good to Neverland.

Now a young couple lives in the former Darling house with their lately orphaned niece. A girl of sixteen who struggles internally to fit in the world around her.

Now children are pressured and pounded to leave their child hood dreams sooner, quicker and to face a life without the light of fairies or the threat of Pirates.

The girl whose name was Vivienne, Enna for short, too fell pray to the fast pace world surrounding and battering her, it was drowning her. Vivienne was far more mature than most children when she was young, in that she saw past the trickery and plastic illusion that child hood had become.

At age four she walked into her mother and stated quite simply that there was no Santa Clause and that was the end of that. Despite the elaborate ploys her mother had gone through for the Holiday. She simply knew by looking at the man in the mall with his cheap fake velvet suit and acrylic beard that such a thing was a mere falsehood.

She was responsible, with a level head on her shoulders that only seemed to improve with time. The theories of aliens had no interest to her, no nor did the realms of science interest the grounded girl.

Oddly enough this same girl who laughed at ouiji boards, refused to buy into the y2k phenomena, and could accurately recount the exploits of cultures long since dead, and was the same girl who secretly thought the world was full of magic before mortals did an unforgivable travesty to have it taken away. While in her own time she saw only the lies and emotionless theories of science, in the past she saw magic. In the past there was true life and the world was whole and mystical. It was Enna that knew within herself that Camelot was hidden somewhere in the Welsh forest, and Arthur slept on the misty land of Avalon.

Vivienne, whom everyone swore was going to make it in the world with her talent and mind, had always deeply resented being forced to grow up.

At a young age it became painfully apparent to her that she was doomed to grow up, in the innocence's of her youth she had hoped to be spared from it by her hero, the one exception to the rule, but he never came. Her mother and father joked about her 'childhood fascination', as they saw it, to the story of Peter Pan, how she used to ramble on about his stories and pretend she was there fighting with him and the Lost Boys. Friends and relatives all found it tickling to ask her what she thought of Wendy, to which she would reply "I don't like her.", they'd laugh and ask why "She's a ninny, and she left. Stupid girl. I wouldn't have left."

Even now they laughed at her fondness for it, and unchanged opinion. None of them knew, or suspected the sincerity of those words, and it left a sadness with Enna.

But she had tricked them, every last one. They had her cornered so they thought; she was on her way to becoming an adult as it was with everyone. But Enna had hidden away in the shadowy parts of her mind a youth that no one knew about, or if they did, they did not recognize it enough to bring to light and send to school and force into the adult world. They saw it only as creativeness, and imagination, the ticket for her to make it big. But any child could tell the secret sparkle in her eye; she lived in those "dreams" and she never left them.

On a land of virgin white her worlds took shape beneath her hands. The mind raced with ever line, the stories that went on, the adventures that raged in this shadowy place. It was here she spun the tales of betrayal and love, of honor and glory, and of codes long since faded in worlds that never were and always are. Enna brought to this world an edge of realism no child could ever have, for she was youth, a youth who saw the adult world understood it, and moved in it but rejected it with the whole of her heart.

Here ends the snippet, all replys of any kind welcome.