Through the Window

Dear Peter,

I know you'll never read this, so it's mostly a letter to myself. But if you everdo read this, I want you to know everything I have ever felt about you. Starting from the very beginning, no holding back, leaving tear stains and ink blots on the paper as I blaze a trail of vermilion with my pen.

When you came into my bedroom that first time, I knew my life would never be the same. When you held my hand the whole time we flew to Neverland, it really solidified in me that you were changing my entire existence. Everytime Bell pulled a trick on me and you scolded her, I knew that there was no turning back. From the very first day, I was sure that you were going to be a piece of me forever. I knew that my life would revolve around you.

But sometimes, you made me so frustrated and angry. You're completely oblivious to the fact that every single girl in Neverland would jump off a cliff for you. When those mermaids tried to drown me. When the indian women made me get firewood. When Bell fell for Hook's trickery. Every single girl on that island in the sky was attracted to you, Peter. I don't think you realize that. I don't think you ever will.

You have this glow around you, and it's so attractive. I didn't know I was being pulled in until I was halfway there. It was the scariest thing of my entire life, to be honest with you. I was terrified of that feeling. The feeling of an absolute loss of control because you've put your entire existence in the hands of another person.

No matter how many times you did something stupid, like when you laughed as the mermaids tried to kill me, or when you danced with Tigerlily; All. Night. Long. No matter how much things went wrong with us, no matter how hard I tried to hate you, I always came back around.

But I needed to leave you, Peter. I need you to understand why. You kept saying I was such a great mother, and anything you said to me was about being your mother. Mothers can't love their "son" like I love you. I love you, Peter, I do. But as much as I love you, I needed to leave. I don't know why I'm trying to justify myself, you are never going to read this anyways. But, God, you are just sobeautiful and you don't see the effect you have on people. You don't see how in love I am with you. You didn't see my face fall whenever you called me "mother." Knowing how much you mean to me, and knowing that I'll never mean the same to you; it kills me.

I had to leave, Peter. I couldn't wake up every morning knowing that my dumb emotions were being ignored. I told you that I needed to grow up, that I missed my real mother. That's only half true. When I said that I needed to grow up, I meant that I needed to grow with someone who loved me. I left because you weren't that person for me to grow with, because you didn't love me. I know it was selfish, but I have gotten the consequences. I live in the same house I grew up in, with a husband I married because he loved me and he was a sensible choice, with two children, and I absolutely hate my life.

Everything I do, anything that happens, I instantly think of you. Every event in my life makes me want to be with you. I want those events to be happening withyou by my side. No matter what,Something always brings me back to you, and it never takes too long. I would give anything to have you back in my life. I've prayed every night since I came back home, I've prayed for you to come get me. The second I walked through my back door, I regretted going back. My place isn't here, by myself. My place is wherever you are. I've been living my life on my knees, begging for you to come back briefly, if at all. I'm hoping that one day when I'm begging, you'll hear me, and I'll convince you to come back to me. My muffled tears will never reach Neverland, I know that much, but I'm so miserable.

I wish I could you could just let me be. I wish I could just get over you, I do.I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity. I carry myself through life with poise and composure, like I don't remember who you are, but I know that you would be able to see right through me. I'm 25 years old, but I still believe in you, Peter. I still believe in childish glee and magic. I still believe in love.

With love, Wendy.

She rested the pen down on the desk and stared out the window. For years now, she had watched that same star everynight. Her husband worked late into the nights, and her children always were asleep early. She had stared at the same place in the sky for years, and had witnessed the star slowly dimming. She sighed as she saw that on this very evening, it was barely glowing. She wiped the tears from her eyes and pulled her robe shut as she walked over to the window, letter in hand, contemplating what to do with it.

She could keep the letter, but run the risk of having her family see it. She could hide the letter well, but her children tore up the house every single day. The only option was to simply get rid of it. She dismissed burning, because it caused too great of a smell and made a large mess. She opened the window to circulate air into the stuffy master bedroom, and hopfully circulate some thoughts.

It was a particularly windy evening, the wind kicking up dirt and throwing leaves and twigs about the yards. But within the tumultuous air speeds, Wendy found a calm. She found a familiar feeling in it, and felt safe and happy for once in her life. Her grip on the paper loosened, and she didn't fight as it was whipped out of her hand. The letter went soaring through the air, performing spectacular acrobatics in the wind as it slowly faded into the distance. Wendy leaned out the window, revelling in the calm she had found. She knew she was supposed to be freezing right now, with the wind whipping at her face, but she felt an indescribable warmth surrounding her.

When she opened her eyes, it all left her. The false sense of warmth had abandoned her at the windowsill, a shiver racking through her body. She sighed heavily as she pushed herself away from the wall, hoping to get some sleep tonight. She glanced back at the window, making sure it was still open ajar. She had always left it ajar. She had always hoped Peter would come back for her. He never did. He probably never would, she thought to herself often.

She crawled under the covers in her dark master bedroom and tossed and turned for an hour. Giving up, she rubbed her temples as she stared at the cieling. Shadows swirled in front of her eyes, taunting her with false images similar to the one that started everything. She swatted in front of her face as she sat up, as if to get rid of the awful visions. The shadows still danced on the wall, but they had dissolved into simply one floating dark splotch.

"Why does my mind keep playing tricks on me. This isn't fair."

Wendy mumbled to herself in the dark, lamenting the hallucinogenic shapes floating in front of her eyes.

"This isn't a trick, Wendy."

Wendy shook her head refusing to look up. She raked her fingers through her hair, waiting for the voices to disappear like they always do. This wasn't even Peter's voice. It sounded too old, too mature. Too hurt. It didn't have any of the boyish immaturity that she loved. It sounded stable. It was horrifying. A tear rolled down her cheek and she slowly looked up from her hands and over to the wall.

There, stood a man she vaguely recognized. He seemed to have dark hair, it was long and scruffy, unwashed and probably unkempt. She couldn't decipher the neatness, as it was all sitting under a floppy hat. He had a long tunic on, in terrible distress, hanging loosely from his tall frame. He wore loose pants and shoes, both ripped and torn and soiled. Wendy squinted in the dark and tried to figure out if her mind was tricking her.

"No. It--it can't be. You, aren't you supposed to be--"

"A boy? A child? Yes. But something happened, Wendy. Something changed me. I can never be a kid again. Being a kid is all about that reasonless glee a child feels spontaneously. After it happened to me, I never felt happy again."

"That sounds awful, Peter. What happened," she asked, torn up by how terrible he looked.

He took a step towards her and held her clean, fragile hand in his dirty, callused one.

"You, Wendy. You happened. And then you left and I--I just wasn't the same. Do you see Neverland getting dimmer? There's no more childhood in it. I've spent the past 10 years looking for you and I hadn't found anything until tonight."

He held up her letter and smiled.

"You still tell the best stories."

Wendy's eyes filled with tears as she attacked Peter in a hug. Even though he was smelly and was no doubt getting dirt all over her nightgown, she was just glad to have him back in her life. She latched onto Peter, planning on never letting go.

"I want to go back," she mumbled into Peter's chest.

"Take me back to Neverland, Peter. I want to stay forever this time. Please take me back. Please."

They pulled away, and she searched his eyes as he thought about it.

"Wendy, you have a husband and children. You have a new life now, I can't just take you out of that. Your family needs you. I can't do that, Wendy."

Wendy shook her head and took up both of his dirty hands.

"I may have a new life, but that doesn't mean I'm enjoying it, Peter. You read that letter. You read how awful I felt. You read all of my feelings. My family doesn't need me. They may want me here, but they can function without me. I would give up anything to have you back, Peter."

The front door downstairs opened and she gasped. No, no, no. Not again. Never again.

"Peter, we need to leave right now. John will be up here any minute. I never want to leave you again."

Peter shook his head, not sure of what to do.

"Are you sure? Are you sure you won't want to come back? I can't take you back once we get to Neverland, Wendy."

Wendy lunged through the few inches seperating them, acting quite unladylike and forward by kissing Peter full on the lips. They stood together for a few minutes, pressed against each other in a most inappropriate fashion. Never had she felt this type of emotion with John. Never had she felt so dependent on a single person in her entire life. The entire room seemed to fizzle out into a million blinding stars as she felt dizzy and solid at the same time.

"Wendy! What is going on here!"

The two broke the kiss quickly, but still embraced as they looked down at Wendy's husband. Peter and Wendy were floating three feet above the ground, staring down at John and a slook of ferocity was etched deep into his face. Wendy nodded at Peter and the two started walking towards the large open window. Peter walked on the air faster than Wendy, clearly uncomfortable and ready to leave.

"What's happening, John, is gravity. Who are we to fight it?"

With that, Wendy turned around and closed the distance between her and Peter. The two latched hands and launched themselves out of the window, headed for the explosive star waiting for them on the horizon.