Angela Darling had a very wonderful life. Quite satisfying indeed. She was extremely fond of her friends, which she had many. Her older brother James, was fifteen, and very dimwitted, yet extremely protective of Angela. Her mother did not have a job, but was fond of throwing expensive Parties. Her name was Sarah Darling. She had blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was very interested in the Darling family history, and knew more stories about it then Angela's father, a Darling by blood. She was very beautiful, unlike Joseph Darling, whose ears were too big, and his body too small. He was a well paid lawyer, and as father of the house, served the family well.

Angela Darling lived in a middle sized house with a nursery. She never did believe her mother's stories that her great, great grandmother Wendy Darling had once lived in it. She did, however believe the story of Peter Pan, the boy who never grew up. But she also knew that you had to be very lucky to come across a boy such as this. The way her father described him, blonde hair, blue eyes and all dressed in green, he seemed self obsessed. But she did not know this for sure. Sarah Darling Seemed to enjoy telling stories of the ageless boy, but it was obvious that she did not believe it. Perhaps Angela didn't either, and only told herself that she did.

It was not but a normal evening in the Darling house, a Sunday. They had gone to church that morning, and Mr. and Mrs. Darling had just settled down in the living room for a relaxing cup of tea, leaving James and Angela upstairs in the nursery, daydreaming.

The nursery was no different from when you saw it. Except for newer books, and perhaps a television.

"He did not! They didn't even own swords back then!"

"Yes he did! Oh, what do you know? You're just a boy!" Angela hit her brother on the back of the head with a book.

"I," he began in his intelligent voice. "Am a man! Not a boy!" He began to yell. Angela sighed, and continued her wide-eyed watch out the window.

"Do you remember hearing about… Wendy? Did mother tell you her stories?"

"Oh, Angela. Don't tell me that you really believe our parent's stories! At least not the ones of our crazy grandmother."

"She is not crazy!"

"How do you know? If I am correct, you couldn't possibly be as old as you look! Old enough be alive when our great, great grandmother was! My sister, younger then me! That would make me a billion years old!"

"Exactly." She turned toward him just as he had thrown a white feather pillow that hit her in the face.

The children went on, laughing about, jumping on beds, tackling each other. But a strange presence arose within their minds. Someone was watching them.

A dark grey shadow shown threw the window's glass. It was a boy. A flying boy? Angela made a frightened whimper as James pushed her behind him. Just as the strange creature realized they were watching it quickly flew away. Angela ran to open the window. "N- No!" James managed to squeak as he ran to hold her back. Angela stuck her head out. She looked up, down, right, left, and every which way. But there was no one there. James grabbed her by the arms and slammed the window down.

"Are you insane? Whoever that was could've kidnapped you!"

"Oh, James! He wasn't going to harm us."

"How do you know?"

"Well according to you, I don't know much of anything these days, do I?" They stared at each other for what seemed like forever, their eyes filled with hate.

"What's all the yelling about?" Mr. Darling came in with a shocked look about him. Poor Angela could hold out no longer.

"Father! There was a boy! Outside the window! He wasn't there for long, because-"

"Oh, Father, you couldn't possibly believe a word she says. She's always coming up with delusions of some kind. Besides, even if there was a boy outside the window, he would have to fly to get all the way up here. And there is no such thing as flying boys, are there father?"

"I just wanted to know why I heard raised voices… Perhaps a separate room is a good idea…" Mr. Darling walked away mumbling to himself.