I recently watched the 2003 Peter Pan movie and I forgot how much I enjoy Peter Pan, so from my mind grew this strange story. Reviews are always welcome and please enjoy! I own absolutely nothing.
Wendy Darling, was an old woman now and the days of playing make-believe for her were over because she was dying. She sat slightly upright cushioned by an array of pillows. The nightstand to the left held old worn photographs of her and her brothers, Michael and John. Her mother's pearls were dripping out of an old jewelry box in which the ballerina no longer turned, it like Wendy was now broken.
Wendy's granddaughter, Margaret, dutifully occupied the rocking chair on the right side of the bed. Margaret sat up and walked slowly to the window pushing the glass panes slightly allowing a light breeze to waft into the room.
"I'll be back soon, Grandmother, "she said walking out of the once nursery. She turned to say something more but decided against it as she closed the door behind her. Wendy felt older now that she had ever before. Her eyes scanned the room remembering the fantasies and stories she had shared with her brothers so long ago, and her heart grew a little heavy. She closed her eyes only for a passing moment so that she could remember those precious treasures. When she opened her eyes she was startled to see a boy staring right back at her with the same expression of shock.
"Wendy?" asked the boy.
"Hello, Peter," she answered.
Peter, the boy who refused to grow up, stared into Wendy's heavily wrinkled face for quite some time. Wendy watched his face as he tried to find the young girl he had once known. Finally his face contorted with anger,
"You weren't supposed to grow up Wendy! Why couldn't you have just stayed with me in Neverland?" he shouted at her. He began to run around the room, knocking over pictures, an old dollhouse and other memorabilia from a more innocent time. Finally he seemed to give up, knowing that his efforts were fruitless and kneeled next to Wendy placing his face into his crossed arms and began to cry. Wendy looked at the boy who had taught her so much including how to grow up.
Through his arms and soft cries Peter, as innocent as a child was able to, asked Wendy the question that sat in the bottom of his heart, "Wendy, where do people go when they die?" his chin trembled ever so slightly.
Wendy sighed weakly before answering, "Well, Peter we go Neverland I suppose, but don't worry," she said reassuringly staring into his trusting face, "I still remember the way, second star on the right and straight on till morning". He buried his face back into his arms for a moment shedding the last of his tears.
"Boy, why are you crying?" Upon hearing the question Peter wiped off his face with the back of his hand. He glanced up at Wendy only to find she gone.
With a quivering lip Peter reached into his small satchel attached to his hip and removed a small object from it. He turned the tiny thimble over in his hand then carefully placed the thimble lovingly into Wendy's hands.
Just as suddenly as he had appeared Peter had vanished leaving behind a last kiss.