I am posting this because it is a dream story, and everyone knows that dream stories take priority. It won't be very long, and as soon as I get bored with this story, I'll go back and work on some of my other ones.
By the way, the title is a working title only, and if anyone has a better idea for one, please let me know via review or email, as you like.
The Lost
Chapter 1: Elizabeth Daughter of Margaret
In a former life, she had been known as Lizzie Ann Thomas. She had listened to the stories that her mother told her about flying boys with red hair and islands in the sky, and while she enjoyed them on a superficial level, she knew that they couldn't be true. That sort of thing just didn't exist.
But then her parents were killed in a car crash while going out to dinner.
She was quite young still, young enough to cry herself to sleep because she was old enough to understand that her parents were never coming back. Sometimes the head of the orphanage, Mrs. Neil, would come in and let Lizzie sit on her lap, but that wasn't often. Mrs. Neil was a busy woman with over two dozen children to take care of, and all of them missed their parents.
It was on one of the nights when Mrs. Neil was tending the other children that He came.
He looked about her age, with bright red hair that needed trimming. He was clothed in what looked like very large, brightly coloured leaves sewn rather hastily together.
But most important of all, he had come in through the open window, three stories off the ground.
"You're Lost now, aren't you?" he asked.
She wiped her nose. It was running because she had been crying. "Lost?" she repeated.
"I looked for your mother not too long ago, but she was all grown up. Then I looked for her tonight and she was gone." It wasn't a very good explanation, but when one takes into account who was giving it, it was quite impressive.
"My mother's dead," Lizzie told him. "And my dad, too."
He looked almost sad for a moment. "All my mothers die," he said. "Wendy did, then Jane did, and now Margaret did." The sadness disappeared from his face as quickly as it had come. "But if you're Margaret's daughter, then you can be my mother."
"That doesn't make any sense. No one can have three mothers, and if Great-Grandma Wendy was your mother, then Grandma Jane was your sister. If someone's your sister they can't be your mother."
The boy seemed confused. "But when Wendy was grown up, Jane said that she would be my mother, since Wendy couldn't fly anymore."
"So 'mother' is a hereditary position now?" she asked, somewhat rhetorically. "That would mean that I'm my own mother."
"Not your mother. My mother. You're supposed to be my mother."
She thought a moment. It would definitely seem that she was talking to the flying boy from her mother's stories. And if he existed…
"Where do you live?" she asked cautiously.
"Up, up, and a little that way," he said without thinking, pointing off towards the moon.
"You live on the moon?"
"No. That would be silly. I live in Neverland."
That settled it. "You're Peter, aren't you?" she asked.
He grinned and bowed, clearly thrilled to be recognized. "And you're Margaret's daughter."
"Elizabeth."
"Elizabeth daughter of Margaret daughter of Jane, daughter of the wonderful and illustrious Wendy."
Casting call! I need Lost Boys. Please keep in mind that they are an entirely new crop and I'll be accepting between five and seven characters. Fill out the following form and send it to me via review or email, as you like.
Name: (something Lost Boy-ish)
Approximate age: (somewhere between three and eleven)
Appearance: (hair colour, eye colour, fat or skinny, etc)
Personality: (cheerful, sullen, hyper, etc)
Quirks: (like Nibs and his affinity for rats)