Wendy's face fell.

she wished she hadn't heard anything at all, for growing up always somehow found it's way into her dreams.

it frightened her so, just frightening enough to make her toss and turn in her sleep.

Wendy gathered herself away from the door with a newly found heartache.

as she sulked towards the kitchen, micheal's anxious voice rang out from the top of the staircase.

"Wendy! wendy! peter has returned!"

Could it really be true?

Has our beloved peter pan http: flown through the window with adventures to tell and another thimble to give?

By now, wendy was allready topping the staircase excitedly, her old white nightgown held up at her sides so as to not trip over the bottoms.

she second stepped so she could reach the top before peter had flown away from the nursery.

Micheal had dissapeared only a second ago, as restless as a jumping bean from his brief interlude announcing peter's presence.

How could he wait much longer if peter awaited him in the nursery with so many new adventures to tell?

How could any child possibly hold themselves from his lovely presence?

As wendy reached the top of the staircase, she suddenly remembered the slight crack in the door.

We must all pray together, along with poor wendy, that Mr. and Mrs. Darling hadn't picked up micheal's guest announcement.

If, by chance, they were to hear it, i can allready see Mr. Darling dashing for the nursery, a wretched man he knew that he was, shooing the flying wonder towards the window with his hands and now barring it shut so peter could not return again.

How wendy would hate him for putting a bar on her own window!

What would the neighbours say of it?

Nothing of good nature, she knew.

How would she ever call for peter to come and fetch her?

She could only rely on that silly window to bring him back to her bedside.

"Well boys? where can this peter be?" she inquired john and micheal who were now standing together.

The nursery was as silent as the street below them.

Not a creek from a corner or a billow from the curtains could be detected as wendy's eyes wandered about the room.

To conclude, peter had tricked them all.

He had played his game of hide and seek again, always thinking it funny to pretend he was there and then to fly off, leaving not a single trace of his existence to save in your pocket.

Wendy could never catch him on his hide and seek days sadly, but she did have one piece of him left lying on her vanity.

A kiss.

It wasn't just an ordinary kiss.

You know, the kind you give to your loved one late at night.

It was a single acorn suspended on a golden chain, descending from a section of peter's leaf costume.

She couldn't remember which part, but when she recieved it, she knew that every girl asleep before her was dreaming about peter, and jelious of her for having peter's kiss.

It felt deliciously wonderful to know that you were the one that had peter's kiss lying carelessly in your room somewhere, like you never even paid mind to it . But ofcourse you did, because you only wished that he would come back for you one night as you clutched it tightly in the palm of your hand.

She never wished to hang it around her neck any more.

She decided, right after peter had left her at her windowsill on their last eve that it's rightful place was in her jewlery box placed on her vanity.

"But Wendy!" micheal protested, "I saw him! i saw him floating against the ceiling only a dash bit ago!"

"Oh micheal! i do believe that your telling the truth!" wendy cried.

Helpless tears were springing from her eyes as she ran to give her youngest brother a hug.

John, who was far too sensible a boy to show any emotion at all felt a sort of sorrow for his sister and patted her on the back to show his concern.

Although he was short in nature, wendy could allready see that john was turning into a plain and simple man.

He would not slouch the least bit come tea time, and sometimes followed father along to the bank and assisted with filling out balance sheets and counting check piles.

However, on other occasions, he was always the first to suggest a new make believe game on fridays when nana was out to visit aunt millicent and the lost boys.

It was very peculiar actually.

" Let us pretend that we are on that island you always speak of wendy!"

It was plain enough to see that he had allready forgotten that he had ever visited neverland, the friday he suggested this game.

He fetched a jewel encrusted sword, one of where he had no clue of it's origin, and brandished it wildly about as if he were a pirate.

Micheal wanted to play too, so he scurried to his bedside and tried hoisting himself onto the matress but he was not tall enough to make it up on his own at this time.

Wendy noticed this and giggled at him.

She raced over to lift him up by his under arms.

"Here!" she said, racing back and again to give him some red paint from the set aunt millicent bought her.

"Put this on your face, so you will look like a true blooded red skin!"

"Oh, what a thrill! what a thrill this shall be!" micheal cried with glee.

Wendy watched with shining eyes as he splattered red paint across the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks to look like a young indian child.

And how lovely he looked after he was through with that messy muck of paint!

Neverland was coming to life in the darling nursery on the last night, wendy's last night of bliss, but only if peter could see all of this make believe excitement!

If only he would fly through the open windows to laugh and skip and play!

But peter pan was not there to laugh and skip and play with the children.

There was too much adventure alone waiting for him at home, so all he could offer was to play with them in their dreams.

Wendy often saw peter playing blissfully in her dreams.

It was often, but quite a solemly site!

She would turn on her side again and feel his gentle hand touching hers, and before she could reach hers to touch his whitish blonde curls, he was gone and out of site into the sky.

Wendy's eyes began to tear come sunrise, and Mrs. Darling would come into the room and hold her tight in her arms.

"Oh Dearest! what is it that makes you cry late at night?"

"It is he, mother! it is peter who makes me cry like he thinks i do not care for him!"

That was the last night that Mrs. Darling left wendy's side before she drifted off to sleep.

She waited patiently with wendy, her eyes bright and wide eyed from thinking of that naughty boy, and then watched as wendy's eyes closed for awhile, and waited awhile more, just incase peter would pay a visit to her and make her cry out in pain.

We must forget about these horrifying dreams for the time being and return to the joyous site of the children playing.

It is always better to return to a happy scene after we hear about a child's nightmares.

"Wendy, what shall you be if i am a redskin and john there is a pirate?"

Wendy smiled at micheal and stepped towards the nursery's middle.

"Why, i am sure that i shall be a mermaid!"

This was a wonderful idea to wendy, so she stood with a lovely grin.

A lovely grin to woo a whole flock of young boys to her service.

"But, however can you pretend to have a fin?"

This said by john the pirate, was a very rational statement to consider.

"Ah, you are right dear pirate," wendy answered, "so if i cannot be a mermaid, then i shall be a story teller!"

A story teller!

What a brilliant position to take in make believe never land!

John clapped his hands with delight.

"How ripping!"

Micheal began bouncing on his bed again.

"Smashing wendy!"

Story teller felt quite pleased with herself, and so she began to play her role at once.

The other two continued on to role play as well, running about the room like savages and scally wags clutching glorious jewel swords in both their sword fighting hands so that they could duel eachother as they stepped across the floor.

"Arrrrrr! watch yer step there, young red skin! if you dont watch where you point that thing, i shall fetch long tom!"

It is always entertaining the see the children forget to drop their brittish accents when in the middle of their character's line, not even recognizing that it would not be in a pirate's or a redskin's nature to speak in such a way they imagined it to be.

"Beware you, for i am a nasty redskin! i shall smash you in now with my tomahawk!" redskin announced blandly.

He was a fierce little red skin. He was going to kill every pirate in neverland with his pretend tomahawk.

He quickly snatched a bat used for cricket off the floor and whacked pirate straight in the calf, sending him crashing to the ground with a thud.

Ofcourse, we could say that micheal hit john square in the leg and made him fall, but that would not be pretending, you see.