When the Pixie Dust Runs Out

This is me just barely making it on day three. Yesterday was way more fun than I expected and I was really happy about the couple positive comments I got about it. And the same can be said about today’s prompt cause I just feel in love with  it the moment I read it. It again comes from the lovely Lindsay (seriously she has been so incredibly supportive as I start this adventure I am constantly reminded how lucky that makes me) who mixed in one of my all time favorite stories; Peter Pan. She actually almost gave me two prompts in one cause I could have gone the way of personal opinion/philosophical like I did with Tuesday’s prompt or I could have written a fictional take on characters in their future. And considering that I am getting ready to try to write fiction nonstop for a month I went with that option. So below is the prompt and how I filled it. Enjoy!

 

Is there a land that exists between Neverland and the real world? To have both just seems to good to be true but I like to think of it as possible. I’m not sure what the prompt is. Maybe that feeling of being an adult but enjoying life, travel, meet new people, restaurants with amazing views. I don’t think that I’m scared of “growing up” I just want to think that I will still be able who I am and be able to enjoy all of those fun things in life. Obviously the real world comes with responsibility but there has to be a balance out there? Maybe a twist on Wendy in her twenties, maybe she still sees Peter every once and in a while. Just for substance you could use her but explore that difficulty of being an “adult”. — Lindsay

 

The night was surprisingly warm for a mid-October night in London. However the chill in the wind was just enough to keep ones body balanced and content. Wendy watched as some of the remaining leaves detached from their nurturing branches and glided toward the pavement surrounding her feet.

“I never understood why the autumn made people so happy. Think of the trees, it is not easy watching something outgrow you and eventually leave.” The voice came from beside her as the young boy landed next to her on the cool wooden bench. “Leave…leaf, get it?”

Familiar to her was the twinkle in his eyes, enjoying his own joke too much, but as was the small circle of sadness that knocked at the edges when she was around. She returned him a small, closed-lipped smile and said, “Hello Peter.”

When his joke when unacknowledged the corners of his mouth fell and he mumbled into his chest a melancholy, “Wendy”.

Once upon a time she would tease him that frowns were unbecoming on his boyish face, made him seem much more grown up. But when he stopped returning the jokes and would point out the very real changes in her it no longer made either of them smile. “How are the Lost Boys Peter? Is John still faring alright?”

As angry as Wendy remained at her brother for running away to Neverland with Peter when he was eleven and putting her parents through the idea that their son had gone missing she couldn’t stop her need to know he was okay. Michael had never forgiven their brother, any time Wendy tried to relay his status Michael would give her a look that much to resembled their father when he disapproved of Wendy’s imagination. Nobody would have thought, least of all Wendy, that Michael would grow up and abandon things lacking logic and facts.

Peter huffed like it was a task to speak to her, despite being the one that sought her out. Keeping his head forward he said, “John is great. That brain of his is always creating new things that make life easier for us and all the more difficult for Hook.”

There was pride in his tone, as there often was when he talked of his Lost Boys. But John was special, he had promised Wendy to look out for John and Peter never broke his promises to her. Thinking of John building strange contraptions made her grin in full and settled a piece in her that always got restless when Peter was away without news for too long. Watching his profile, as he fiddled with the brown belt at his waist, she felt the same warmth that used to drift throughout her body long ago. “And you? How are you Peter?”

Finally he turned to her, face full of innocence and mischief like the night he first came into her childhood bedroom. “Good. I’m always good Wendy-Bird. I trapped Hook and Smee in their own trap for me the other day, visited the mermaids, and helped Tootles find his marbles again.” Peter’s hand waved around and he even began to bounce slightly in his seat before everything fell again and he turned with a hopeful smile to Wendy. “But I’d be even better if you came back to Neverland, and not just me, all the Lost Boys miss ya Wendy. Come on, you’re not even old yet.”

With every visit from Peter came a plea for her to fly towards the second star on the right and straight on till morning. She would be lying if she didn’t admit she enjoyed his persistence, or even that every time she entertained the idea for just a brief moment. Turning her body fully towards him she took in the last moments of his smile and hope before she crushed them yet again. “I might not be old yet Peter but I am grown up. I have responsibilities here that I can not just leave behind for Neverland, as lovely as it is and as much I miss you all.”

“Responsibilities.” Peter spit out the word like it was poison. “Maybe you really have lost your ability to chase dreams and have adventures.”

It always hurt no matter how much she anticipated Peter’s sharp words and doubt. They had been having a version of this conversation for years already and she knew it would only keep happening till she was in fact old while he remained just as he always has. With a sigh she spoke to him again, “You know I’ll never lose those things. I go on adventures all the time, some even to far off places where I meet new people and enjoy wonderful things. Growing up itself is an adventure of sorts, I wish you could understand that.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her pleading eyes. “I just don’t want you to forget Wendy-Bird. Even Hook, I want you to never forget that dirty pirate. Growing up makes people forget.”

“Oh Peter,” Wendy moved towards him on the bench gently placed her hand at his elbow, “I’ll never forget; not Hook, Smee, and the Jolly Roger, not the Lost Boys, not Tinkerbell, not Neverland, and certainly not you Peter Pan.”

Barely did his eyes meet hers as they mist over. Taking a breath she spoke again, “Growing up isn’t about forgetting, it is about finding a way to remember your past ventures while navigating the new seas ahead. I’d never dare to forget the memories you and your land of imagination gave me.” She squeezed her trembling fingers on his arm to put more emphasis into her words.

Emotion was never something Peter was good with, but after a moment Wendy felt the light weight of his hand atop hers. They locked eyes and he gave her a full nod, he could never stay mad at her. From the distance the chimes of Big Ben began and both looked in the direction remembering the night of their first shared flight and the start of their friendship.

As the rings came to a close Peter squeezed her hand once again before standing up. Putting on his trademark grin he broke their silence, “I better get back, it’s never wise to leave those hooligans alone for too long.”

There was a small part of her that again considered taking his hand and asking for a spot of pixie dust, but Wendy had made her peace with becoming an adult. “Of course,” she said. “It was nice to see you Peter. Tell the boys I say hello and take care of yourselves.”

“Will do Wendy-Bird.” Peter jumped from the cobble stones to the bench, where he towered over her. “Don’t get to old on me okay, I’ll be back.”

Smiling wide Wendy nodded and said, “I’ll do my best Peter”. And with that his frame slowly started to rise and just as he started to float of eye sight Peter gave her a wink and a salute before zooming off for that certain star. Below Wendy watched with a content smile that came with the acceptance of growing up.

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