<div style="text-align: center"><b><u>Wendy Darling</u></b><br/>
<i>Darling Estate</i>​</div><br/>The lights were on in Father’s study.  That could only mean one thing - he was taking a meeting.  But with whom?  Wendy pressed herself against the window, her fingers splayed against the glass like pale white spiders.  If she pushed and wished hard enough, maybe she could phase through and just<i>be</i>in the courtyard.  Stranger things had happened.<br/><br/>Her tongue ran across the inside of her bottom lip, toying with the small bit of metal that lay there.  Across the courtyard, in a window that glowed with the soft yellow from the light within, she could see the outline of a man.  Tall.  Shoulders that looked broad.  Maybe that was a trick of the light.  Pale fingers pressed harder against the smooth surface of the glass.  Just a bit harder and she’d slip through and be in the courtyard.  Just like magic.  Just like when she was with Peter.<br/><br/>Wendy’s eyes flicked upward to search the sky for a familiar shape.  He would come for her.  Again.  She could feel it deep in her bones.  Lips painted a deep blood red slid slowly into a grin.<i>He</i>would return and finally they would believe her.  Blue eyes, the ones that mirrored the dark stormy skies over Neverland dropped back down to the window across the way.<br/><br/>The silhouette of the mysterious man talking to Father had disappeared.  Back to the sky went her gaze.<br/><br/>How could she explain how badly she wanted to see him?  She’d tried over and over, thrashing and wailing, begging and demanding.  No one ever listened.  They doled out the small pills and the jabbing needles and doped her into oblivion, wrapped her in heavy straitjackets, and tucked her away into soft rooms where she couldn’t hurt herself.  Then one day it all ended and the dreams returned.  Beloved dreams.  The dreams where he’d find her.<br/><br/>“To sleep, perchance to dream,” she whispered against the window, her breath fogging the glass, “for in this sleep of death what dreams may come…”  Sleep would bring dreams and dreams would bring him.  One finger tapped the glass twice before she pushed herself away and crossed the room to the bed piled high with soft pillows wrapped in crisp white cases.  Crawling into the mass of purchased comfort, Wendy curled onto her side, hands tucked under her chin.<br/><br/>The fog rolled in.  Thick.  Heavy.  Dampness clinging to her skin and her clothes.  She could reach out a hand and scoop it up.  Delicate fingers danced through the gloom to make it swirl around her.  Wendy smiled and stepped deeper into the mist.<br/><br/>Ropes creaked.  The ground rolled gently under her feet.  Was it the ground?  She inhaled deeply.  There was salt in the fog.  No, not the ground then.  A ship.<br/><br/>There was only one person she knew who had a ship.<br/><br/>Ice tiptoed up her spine.<br/><br/>Wendy turned slowly and began to step backward.  Deeper into the thick fog.  Ropes creaked.  The deck rolled.  Another brush of ice, this time along the back of her neck.<br/><br/>“Hello?” she called out.  “Is anyone there?”  Not too loud now.  Don’t want to draw too much attention.<br/><br/>Fingers of fear wrapped around her innards, tightening and drawing them into a rock in the pit of her stomach.  She pressed a hand to her belly.<br/><br/>“Peter?”<br/><br/>The fog swirled, little eddies of misty movement.  Her nostrils flared.  Her breathing quickened.  The rock in her gut grew heavier.  She wasn’t alone.  Someone else was here too.<br/><br/>“Peter Pan?  Is that you?”  The whisper sounded harsh to her ears.<br/><br/>Eddies rippled through the grayness pressing on her from all sides.<br/><br/>Wendy’s eyes darted this way and that.<br/><br/>There!  There he was.  Maybe he couldn’t see her.  Perhaps he couldn’t hear her.<br/><br/>“Peter, it’s me, Wendy.”  One step closer.  Then another.<br/><br/>The figure did not move but now she could hear its voice.  Beckoning to her.  Calling out to her.  The words were unclear but she<i>knew</i>he wanted her.<br/><br/>“I knew you’d come for me.”  A genuine smile began to curl at the corner of her mouth.  “I’ve waited for so long, Peter.”<br/><br/>What was he saying?  It was so hard to understand him.  Another step closer.  He was saying something but she still couldn’t hear him.  It must be the fog.  It had to be.  Wendy took another cautious step forward, this time reaching out her hand.  “Take my hand, Peter.  Take my hand and take me back to Neverland.  I never should have left.”  Her fingers twitched and trembled.<br/><br/>The fog swirled again.  He was reaching for her.  Her smile deepened, a happy little laugh right on her lips.  It didn’t get farther than that before it froze, strangled by the icy chill blooming in her veins.<br/><br/>“Peter?” she whispered.<br/><br/>The golden hook turned, beckoning to her.<br/><br/>Wendy screamed.  She screamed and she screamed and she screamed.