"Peter Pan? Are you serious, Mom? Now is not the time for you to tell me another made-up story." I said, exasperated. "Oh Cara," she said, cupping my face. "Peter, as well as everything else I've told you about Neverland, is all very real."
"Of course I'm real. Hello, Wendy. Nice to see you again," a male voice said from the window. I whipped around. Standing there was a boy of about 5'11, who had reddish-brown hair and freckles, wearing a green tunic and pants that perfectly matched his eyes. "Hello Peter," my mother said, all of a sudden becoming bashful. "You're looking, well, just as you always do." She said with a little chuckle. Peter grinned, and then glanced at me. "Who is this? She looks just like you." He said, giving me a small smile. I just gaped at him. "There is no way any of this could be real", I thought. Oh, but it was. And it would be very short-lived when my father woke up, I realized. Quickly regaining my composure, I hurriedly introduced myself. "Cara Darling, Mr. Pan. Pleasure's all mine. Now, my father is unconscious downstairs, and he'll come back to beat us some more once he figures out what happened. So whatever you're doing here, better to make it quick." Peter looked questioningly at my mother, but she just shrugged.
"Why, I'm here to take you to Neverland, of course! Both of you." He said, giving her a look. "But Peter. . ." my mother trailed off, only half arguing. "Well let's go then," I said, hoping to get a move on before Father came upstairs and kicked down the door. "She likes to get things done," Peter chuckled. My mother looked fondly at me. Peter yanked a pouch of glittery dust from around his neck and sprinkled it over the three of us. As we began to rise into the air, the door burst open, a fuming mad Father snarling profanities at us. "Fly!" we all said in unison. And with that we jumped from the window.
We all linked hands as we flew through the night sky. Peter led us up and up and up, so high until I thought we would fly straight into the stars. "Open your eyes," Mom whispered, her voice sounding awed. I complied, and I was immensely happy I did. Before me lay turquoise waters lapping at white sandy beaches. There were lush jungles and vibrant forests, and I could see the Indian settlements, the smoke winding up out of their camp. I could see the infamous Jolly Roger, with pirates milling about. Quickly, Peter flew us into the heart of the island. We were in a clearing with trees surrounding us on all sides. There was only one discrepancy in the perfect scenery: a tree had a slight discoloration on its bark. Sure enough, Peter walked over to the tree and pressed on it. To my surprise, the bottom of the tree dropped out to form a tunnel. Mom and Peter linked hands and walked towards it. I followed them, still trying to process that I was actually in Neverland. We soon arrived at the common room of the Lost Boys' hideout. I heard shouts of "Peter's back!", "Father!", "Who's he got with him?", "It's mother!", "Mother!", and, "Who's the other girl?". It was all very overwhelming as these cries were one after the other, quite rapidly. "Hello boys," Mom said. "It's so good to be home."