The Heart of Neverland

I closed the door behind me but did not move from my spot right inside the room. Cold air blew in from the window, making me shiver in my thin silk dress and I felt just as fragile as the flowered curtains being blown about in the wind. Wendy, this is crazy, I thought to myself. You know it was always just a dream, there was no way he could be back. 

Suddenly I felt foolish. I wouldn't allow my imagination control my life, and a fear of someone or something that wasn't even real was silly. Being seventeen and grown up meant I had to think rationally and leave my unfounded childhood fancies behind.

I whipped my head to left as a shadowed figure bolted in my peripheral vision.

Taking a deep breath I let go of the door behind me and started to make my way to the open window. Slowly, so I could keep watching for unusual flickers of my imagination, I took step after careful step across my room. When I reached the window and stopped in the frigid moonlight I realized that the bolt from my window was hanging in such a fashion it would of had to have been open from the outside. I stuck my head out to look below. 

No ladder, and it wasn't as if the imposter could have flown up. That was irrational to even think of, someone flying.

I spun around as a gust of wind blew my curls up and around my face.

"John? Michael?" I asked, calling out, my voice shaking. "Stop messing around. If you're trying to scare me, it won't...it won't work!" I told who ever was in the shadows as I backed up against the window seat, putting my arms behind me so I wouldn't back up too far and tumble out the window.

When my hands touched the wooden frame I stopped.

And felt cool finger tips on my shoulder.

"Say Wendy, are you scared now?" A ghost from the past asked me, and I jumped with a yelp, forgetting about the gaping window. In an instant I realized that I was falling through open air and there was nothing my panicked and shocked body could do about it. I couldn't even scream properly.

Before I could hit the hard ground below, the cool fingers touched me again, this time holding me outside my window. And as they helped me back into my room, I realized I remembered that cool touch instantly.

"Peter?" I asked as I was set down on the window seat, feeling ashamed for even asking. Peter had been a dream, an idea, a figment of my imagination. Yet, somehow, he was standing here before me, coming into the moonlight so I could properly see him.

He was the Peter I knew though. He still had the same devilish red hair and freckles upon his face, and his green eyes still shone with a bright light that seemed to reflect a million stars back at me. But...

He was older. How was that even possible? The Peter of my dreams was ageless, forever trapped as a child. This Peter had grown though, grown into a young man that somehow had that boy still inside of him.

"Yes Wendy, it's Peter," he whispered, keeping himself at a safe distance. "And I'm sorry for scaring you."

"It's alright," I said, but my voice cracked, telling him otherwise.

"Wendy, I have to ask a favor," he scrunched his face up, thinking. "And I'll turn the lights, this darkness is not doing any good for either of us."

As he went to turn on the various lamps in my room, I struggled to find words to fill the awkward silence. "I thought you were never coming back. I thought you were a dream."

In the light I could see him better and the expression on his face as one of child-like hurt. "You though I was a dream? You forgot about our adventures? You forgot about me?"

"Peter," I tried.

"No, Wendy, I clearly came back to the wrong girl."

"Peter, what was the favor you wanted to ask of me?" I tried to move past the horrible feeling that had descended into the room and had begun to choke us. If I wasn't dreaming, I had to do something to make amends.

"Oh, that," he shifted his feet, "I've lost two things, but, let's handle this one at a time."

"Alright?"

For a moment he paused, then held up what looked to be a sheer piece of fabric. "Do you remember this?" he asked, and suddenly I did.

"Peter, your shadow really does have something against you, doesn't it?" I laughed, for the first time feeling at ease with this new version of Peter. I pointed to my desk. "Grab my sewing kit, and sit down here. I believe you have some explaining to do."