Forgetting Neverland

“... So I ran away to Kensington Gardens. That’s where I met Tinker Bell. She was my fairy.” Peter’s voice was filled with pain and anguish that Wendy couldn’t even begin to comprehend.
“But Peter,” Wendy said inquisitively, “there’s no such thing as-“
“Don’t say that!” shouted Peter. “Every time someone says that a fairy somewhere drops down dead.” Wendy was frightened by the anger in peters voice. He had always been cheerful and fun during his visits, childlike almost.
“Is that... is that what happened to Tinker Bell?” Wendy whispered.
“Yes,” Peter said coldly. “I must leave now. I’ve got to tell The Lost Boys the rest of the story you’ve been telling me.”
“But Peter, I know lots of stories! Stories I could tell the boys. Oh, please take me with you!” Wendy exclaimed. This had all happened before, there had been other girls on other nights. Back then Peter would have welcomed another adventure. But now, well, Tink was dead.
“No,” said Peter. “I must return to Neverland. You can not fly.”
“But can’t you teach me? Oh, surely you could!” Wendy was getting excited, visions of pirates and mermaids in her head. She had always longed to see a mermaid, or to cross swords with a pirate.
“No!” said Peter, his voice rising in anger. “You need fairy dust! Fairy dust!” Peter was breathing hard. His vision blurred. He had never felt this sensation before. He didn’t know why water was leaking from his eyes. Before Tink died he had never known what sadness was, let alone agony. He was overwhelmed by it. It consumed him and he had no clue what he was to do about it so he did was his instincts told him to do. He flew out the window without another word to Wendy.
As he flew Peter became more and more angry. He wondered how many times Wendy had said those forbidden words, there’s no such this as fairies. He wondered if it could have possibly been her that had said the words that had killed his own fairy. Peter had never had unhappy thoughts before. Even when he had cut of Captain Hooks hand and fed it to the crocodile it had been more out of fun then anything. As he flew back to the home he loved there were tears in his eyes and hatred in his heart. But there was also another feeling, fear. The thought that Wendy had been the one to kill his fairy, his best friend, frightened him. He longed for it to have been someone else, but even as he thought this the scene from earlier kept replaying in his head, telling him that it was, indeed her.
Whenever Peter thought of Wendy he thought happy things. Like the stories she told him, or the way she smiled, or the way she spoke of her brothers, Michael and John, with such love in her voice. But now his fear and hatred tainted those thoughts. There was a darkness seeping into them as he made his way home.
When Peter arrived to his secret hideout he was met by cries of welcome from The Lost Boys. “I have news of Cinderella,” Peter said. “She defeated the pirates and lived happily ever after.”
“Why that’s wonderful!”
“Fantastic!” Cries of joy rang throughout the room.
“I shall return to London tonight to bring back another story.” The boys were not used to lies and deceit. That is why they did not detect it in Peter’s voice, for Peter had no intentions of returning with another story. His only concern was with getting revenge on Wendy. “But first I shall need a sword. We shall attack the pirates and I shall steal the sword of Captain Hook,” Peter continued.
You may wonder why the boys did not think to ask why Peter would need a sword to get a story, but the boys were always looking for an adventure. To them it wasn’t unusual to need a sword. In fact, it was quite normal.
“We shall go tonight. We shall surprise them and have the advantage,” Peter Said. “Ready your weapons boys.” And without another word they set off through the jungle towards the ship of Captain Hook.
Once they reached the ship the boys went below to ambush the crew while Peter flew silently into Hook’s cabin and hid in the shadows. Suddenly the air was filled with cries from below. The pirates were now aware of the boys presence, seeing as they had obviously begun there attack. The cabin door burst open then and in rushed Mr. Smee, the first mate.
“Cap’n,” He wailed. “Cap’n, the ship is under attack. It’s Pan’s bunch of misfits, it is.”
“Scurvy brats!” cried Hook. “I’ll get him this time! Remember Smee, Pan’s mine. You hear me? Mine!” Hook rushed out of the cabin and onto the deck in search of Peter, oblivious to him hiding behind the grand piano, about 3 feet from where he had been standing. Once the door was flung shut behind him Peter scurried out of his hiding place and began rummaging through the cabin in search of the sword. Peters feeling of urgency to find the sword quick increased. It wasn’t that he feared Hook, he didn’t. He was quite confident that he could defeat him if pushed, but the hour grew later and later, and he still had a trip to London to make.
Finally he spotted it in a glass case sitting on a dresser. Peter broke the glass and grabbed the gold, sapphire cover hilt. He took off through the air flying at top speed. He swooped down among the fighting enemies and grabbed a coiled rope.
“Time to go boys,” he called.
Once they were all safely back to the hid out Peter thought it was best that he leave at once. “I’ll be back before sunrise,” he told them. Then he set off back to London. As he was leaving he noticed something unusual. It was the middle of spring and the flowers had all wilted. If Peters mind hadn’t been so preoccupied then he might have figured out what it meant and prevented what was to come. But Peters mind was preoccupied and he never gave it a thought.
Peter arrived at the window of the nursery of the Darling family at 2:00 am. No one herd him enter. He flew through the house till he found the room of Mr. And Mrs. Darling. They were both in a deep sleep. He picked up Mrs. Darling and put her in a chair, securing her ands and feet with rope so if she woke up she could not escape, then proceeded to do the same with Mr. Darling.
Back in Neverland clouds covered the sun and it began to snow. The temperature dropped to -70 degrees Celsius. This was to much for the people of Neverland for it had never been winter there before and they were freezing. The water froze over and things began to shrivel up.
Peter crept back into the nursery, where he found John, Michael, and Wendy all asleep in there beds. He tied them all into chairs to, than waited for them to wake up. As he waited he watched. His eyes were first drawn to Mrs. And Mr. Darling.
Mary Darling was beautiful. She had dark curls the cascaded down just past her shoulders. She had kind eyes. He had seen her look at her children with love many times as she tucked them into bed. She had a soft face and angular limbs. George Darling was a balding man with a round tummy. He was hard hearted, and was more comfortable with facts and logic, and in Peters opinion, not worthy of his wife.
Next his eyes moved to John and Michael. John was a handsome boy, kind of scrawny with glasses he was always pushing further up on his nose. The stories he acted out amused Peter though. Michael had a childlike innocence about him. He had small childlike features. He had a round nose and big eyes, a small pouting mouth. Peter almost regretted what was about to happen to him.
In Neverland ice grew on trees that no longer had leaves. The ground froze solid and not a single person walked the jungle floor for it was far to cold. But when Peter felt that slight hint of remorse a single icicle broke off a tree, shattering on the ground. In it’s place was a single leaf, a tiny blossom of hope.
“Good, you awake,” Peter said to Wendy as the rest of her family slept on. Peter had arranged the chairs so that they were all in a single line facing Wendy. Peter hadn’t allowed himself to watch Wendy as she slept but he couldn’t help but look at her now. He watched as she realized she was in danger. He saw her usually soft features harden, her sapphire eyes and her warm lips, the set of her usually friendly jaw, all of it was now bitter and cold. She was an ice queen.
“Why Peter?” Was all she could manage to choke out, her eyes filling with tears as she spoke. It was devastating to watch the hero of all her stories, her hero, commit such heinous crimes.
“Because you took form me what I loved most. It was you who killed Tink. Without her life isn’t worth living. Now, let’s begin.” Peter drew Hooks sword and looked at the still sleeping form of Mr. Darling. There had been no warmth in his heart. He deserved this Peter thought, as he thrust the sword through his heart. Ruby tears streamed from the wound as Wendy screamed in anguish.
Back in Neverland the pirates were dead, all frozen solid on there magnificent ship, which was completely covered in ice. Before they died they felt an extreme pain in there chest, as if they had been stabbed, what they didn’t know was that it was really there souls shattering.
“Just be thankful that he was sleeping. He felt no fear before he died.” Peter said quietly. It was a startling contract to Wendy’s frantic screams. He took the sword still dripping from her fathers blood and turned to her mother, who looked graceful somehow even in sleep.
“No! Please no!” cried Wendy. Peter raised the sword high over his head and brought it down, impaling her in the eye. The blood rushed out pooling at her feet. Wendy starting sobbing her mothers name. Never before had she felt such grief.
In the cold depths of Neverland was a lit fire with tepees surrounding it. There was no one out getting more fire wood, there wasn’t the usual merriment going on. No singing or dancing. That fire was to be the last for all the Indians were now dead. And, just like the pirates, they felt the effects of there souls shattering. They all turned blind before they died.
“No! Not my brothers to! You can’t do this! You can’t,” Wendy screeched.
“I’m sorry, Wendy it has to be this way.” Peter turned to John. His head was lolled to the side, his mouth open, quietly snoring. Peter thought for a minute, than he took the sword and plunged it into the side of his head, straight into his eardrum. His body jerked then was still. Blood was pouring out of the gaping hole now in the side of his head. Wendy’s shrieks increased in volume and Peter thought about killing her next just to stop all of her noise that was beginning to give him a headache. But Peter knew that it would hurt her most to see her youngest brother killed, otherwise Peter wouldn’t have done it.
Mermaid lagoon was frozen over with ice, the mermaids stayed close to the bottom, trying to stay warm. Pain exploded through there heads as they felt the effects of there souls shattering. The Pain was so intense that they forgot to breathe, and total loss of there hearing prevented them from talking to one another. The mermaids had drown and floated up to the surface under a thick layer of ice.
Back in the nursery Peter was turning to Michael, his childish face innocent and perfect. If he wanted to hurt Wendy then he had to do this he thought to himself.
“You can’t kill him! He’s just a child! Please take me instead! Please! Just let him live.”
“No. It’s only fair,” he replied calmly. He turned to face Michael again and this time without a moments hesitation he drew the razor smooth edge of the blade across his mid-section, spilling the contents, and cutting him almost in half. Wendy was in agony, as she let out a low guttural sound like an animal in pain. She had never known such pain in all her life. She welcomed death as if it were an old friend. She wasn’t afraid to die, she was even eager for it, now that she truly had nothing to live for.
In the secret hide out of Peter Pan horrible things were happening. The boys were terrified at the loss of use in there legs, which of course was the effect of there shattering souls, not that they were aware of this. The tree that was the entrance to there hid out above them fell over dead, leaving a gaping hole in the ceiling, which let the cold air in. With out the use of there legs the boys could do nothing but lay there and slowly freeze. It is sad to say the Lost Boys are dead.
Wendy looked at Peter waiting for him to turn around and slaughter her as he had the rest of her family. As she looked at him she realized she had been in love with Peter Pan probably for as long as she had known him. That was why she felt such crushing disappointment. Of course she loathed him for what he had just done to her. But she also realized that she felt for him as she had felt for no other. She remembered to earlier that night when they had sat on the floor, trading stories, it seemed like forever ago to her now, as if an impossible amount of time had gone by, but it had been only a few hours. She had seen a look of agony cross his face when he talked of Tinker Bell, and she hadn’t understood it then, but she did now. She couldn’t believe that those unforgivable words had almost crossed her lips. Maybe it had even been her that had killed the poor fairy for tonight hadn’t been the first that those words crossed her lips. As she looked around the room at her broken family Wendy felt such a horrible indescribable feeling, of terror, loss, and guilt for what she had done.
Peter turned to face her. The words I love you formed on her lips as he drew the smooth blade across her throat.
The fairies were watching there king and queen dance in the moonlight in the protection of the fairy tree. The moon shone down through a hole in the tree. It was a majestic sight to behold. Suddenly everything stopped, they felt unbearable pain in there throats and could no longer breathe. There souls were shattered and they fairies were no more.
Peter watched the ruby waterfall spill onto the floor mingling with the lake that was already down there. He thought he would feel better now that Tink had been avenged, but as he looked at Wendy’s body he only felt a hollow feeling in his chest. That was the last thing Peter Pan ever felt.
Peter was so caught up in looking at the horror he had caused he didn’t see the dog in the corner snarling viciously. It was a Saint Bernard with a blue color around it’s neck with the word Nana engraved upon it. Nana lunged at Peter’s throat aiming for his trachea.
As Peter drew his last shuddering breath so did Neverland for their lives had been connected. Neverland is a magical place, so like all magical things it needed someone who truly believed in it. Neverland was what Peter wanted most, so it was made up of different parts of him. It was his soul that had been keeping Neverland alive. His soul was Neverland. Peter had a pure soul, a soul that only a child who hadn’t experienced the hardships of the world could have. When Tinker Bell died his soul became corrupted and as each act of passion engulfed him it slowly began to die, one piece at a time. Now there is truly nothing left. Nothing will ever grow there again, there will be no more magic. Everything is gone, so say goodbye to Neverland.