Chapter 48: The Sewing Basket
Wendy ran straight to her room. Straight to the nursery.
Then, she destroyed her stories.
Blindly, she shred every journal, every notebook, every page. Harder and harder she sobbed, tearing every word apart. Uncontrollable in her fear and craving emotional release, Wendy did not stop until every story was gone.
In a heartbeat, the evil deed was done.
And Wendy was empty.
Closing her eyes, Wendy hugged her shoulders. She lay down. Curling over the paper scraps, she silently wept over the remnants of her stories.
"Help me." she whispered. Paper crinkled under her cheek. Gold sunlight cut into the tears rolling from her eyes. "Please. Someone. Help me."
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wendy ears were too full of tears to hear.
But the sound happened again. And again. And again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Slowly, Wendy opened her eyes. She listened. It was almost too soft for human hands. It was faint. Rhythmic. Wispy.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wendy sat up. It was coming from inside the empty house. Across the hall.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wendy's heart stopped. The sound was coming from her mother's old room.
"…Mother…"
Trembling, Wendy rose. Dragging through her fear, she walked to the door. The door that once belonged to Mary Darling.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Wendy shivered. Then, squeezing the silver thimble, she turned the knob. She opened the door.
The sound stopped. Suddenly. Suddenly as blowing out a candle.
Gingerly, Wendy entered. Turning, she searched the dusty room, soaking in every memory. The white vanity. The walnut rocking chair. The Victorian rug. The grand bookcase. The thick volumes. The wicker sewing basket.
Wendy knelt.
For a moment she stared at the sewing basket, lost in memory.
Smiling in her sadness, Wendy touched the blue bow in her hair.
She always wore it. Always. Ever since her mother had taken it from the very same sewing basket and put it in her hair.
"I miss you."
Impulsively, Wendy collected her needle, thread, and thimble. "I miss you so much." Heartbroken, she unlatched the sewing basket.
The sewing basket rustled. Like a firecracker, it jumped. The lid popped open like a mouth.
And Peter's shadow flew out.
Wendy screamed. She fell as the shadow attacked.
The thimble. Desperately, Wendy remembered what Headmaster Mickey had said. Fighting the shadow's claws she fumbled for her necklace.
The thimble provides protection when you hold a shadow in your hands.
Wendy felt the silver chain. The shadow hissed, digging into her body, mind, and soul. Wendy screamed as the shadow ripped her senseless from the inside out.
Wrenching free her arms, Wendy slipped the thimble onto her finger.
It stopped. Everything stopped.
Gasping, Wendy sat up.
The shadow sat before her. Hands on its lap, head slightly cocked. Wendy caught her breath. She was utterly mesmerized. Even the shadow's ears were pointed…just like Peter's.
Sunlight bled across the hallway, twinkling through Peter's shadow. The shadow looked down, touching its chest in surprise. Spinning on its knees, it tried to snatch the golden rays.
Wendy smiled, in awe.
"You're…Peter Pan's shadow."
Snap. The shadow looked up. Wendy backed nervously away. The shadow crawled after her.
"No, no. Now wait a minute." Brushing tears from her cheeks, Wendy extended a foot trying to halt the shadow. "Stay. Stayyyyyyy. Oh dear…"
Wendy thud against the wall. Cobwebs and dust stuck to her curls as she pressed back. Curiously, the shadow propped both hands on her knees.
Wendy held her breath.
The shadow leaned forward. It cocked its head.
Then it held out a hand.
Wendy stared.
Then, she took the shadow's hand.
"Oh…my…goodness…"
sultal's note: Hi all! I had some request for more romance (per reference to Juked :))- trust me it's coming round the mountain!
guys have a great week. hang in there!
keep writing.
and party on dudes.