• PETER PAN
    It was 1902 and all was quiet in Hyde Park, London except for one house, number 14, where thirteen year old Wendy Darling, five year old John Darling, and seven year old Micheal Darling stayed awake in their nursery where, for the moment, Wendy was Red-Handed Jill and John and Micheal were the heroines of their homemade play trying to deflect Red-Handed Jill’s swarm of pirates from over riding their ship. With an unsteady twirl, Micheal lunged his sword at my ribs with a harsh poke, “Take that Red-Handed Jill!” indulging him, I harshly fell to the floor and played hurt. Micheal, advancing his foot onto my rib caged, announced, “We’ve defeated the great Red-Handed Jill!” rolling out from his legs hold I said, “Okay, Boy’s, time for bed.” With a pout, John said, “Do we have to?” quickly following, a yawn escapes threw his mouth. Giving my sheets a tug I say, “Yes, John, it’s late.” I jump in to my bed and let the soft, warm bed indulge me. I quickly let out a yawn and stretch before stretching my neck out to blow out the burning candle. “Goodnight John and Micheal.” “Goodnight, Wendy!” they say in chorus. Shutting my eyes, I let the dark of sleep advance upon me as I slowly drift off to sleep, but not before I see a shadow dance across the wall.

    “Weeeeeeennnnnndy!” my mom sings kidnapping me from sleep. “Time to wake up! School.” With an upset groan, I fling my bed sheets off my body letting the cold morning air lap at me. Blinking to clear the fog out of my newly returned vision, I flattened my purple night dress and open the door and poke my head out. "Yes, Mother,” I yelled, “I know. I’ll be down in a few moments.” As advertised, I tromp down the stairs with my newly pressed dress that molded my body with a ruffled design running down the front and a tied bow to the back. I never really liked this dress, it was my mother’s choosing, but if she felt it was a right outfit, I’ll wear it. Puffing out a sigh as I meet my family at the family table, I choose my seat next to John and across from my mother. Looking pleased with her dress choice for me, my mother gives me a smile and says, “Good morning, Darling. Sleep well?” taking my attention off of the empty seat next to Micheal where our father occupied once before, before he left us. Mumbling out the best reply I can muster up in my sleep deprived state, I reply with, “Just fine, Mother.” She tapped her ear and said, “What was that, honey?” agh, like she didn’t hear what I said. In a stronger voice I return, “I slept fine, thank you.” “Good, that’s how ladies speak. Here have a banana, it’s good for you.” I let myself have an internal groan. I have them every day. I grasped the banana and peel the skin. “Thank you.” But mother doesn’t reply verbally only replying with a nod and going back to her newspaper. Taking a few bites of banana I slide off the wooden chair and say, “Micheal, John time for school. Dropping what foods occupied them, Micheal hikes up his glasses and they both run to the stairwell where our back-packs hung. John advanced his arm out giving me my back-pack. I slid the bag on my shoulder and escort my brother’s and me out the door. We set out for school as we endured the cold London air as is snapped harshly at are bare skin. “Hold on!” I say to John and Micheal. They finally stop moving and watch my. I set my back-pack down on the stony cement, and went to my knees and pull out a heavy knitted sweater that Mother put in. I got back up on my feet and slide my arms threw the knitted sleeves and then hike up my bag on my shoulder. Much better I admitted. Predicting my next move, John and Micheal begin walking once more, leaving me to jog to catch up with them. We finally reached the heavy bricked school building and set out to the front door. John led the way in. John and Micheal said are good-byes as we went to are separate classes.











    Chapter 2
    “Miss. Darling, what is this?” Ms. Parker, my teacher said waving a newly drawn picture I drew in my face looking displeased. Confused I say, “Why, it’s a picture of a boy.” Gasping, Ms. Parker crinkles her nose and sets the portrait down with a firm bang. “A boy!” she declares, “what an absorbed thing to draw! Who is it?” I search inside my thoughts to which the person haunting my drawings were, but came up short. “I don’t….know.” replying with a cringe, knowing my lack of a name would set off her temper. Instead, she reply’s with a gentle voice but a stern aura surrounded the sentence. “Miss. Darling, shall we call your mother?” I quickly rise to my feet and shake my head, “No, Ms. Parker! I won’t draw another line!” At least without her knowing I thought. Being pleased with my response to her authority, she clasped her aged hands together and blew a piece of a snowy strand of hair out of her face that was left abandoned from her salt and pepper hair that was pulled in to a stern bun. “Very well then, off you go Miss. Darling.” I was grateful for the dismissal and stopped in the middle of the hall to meet my brothers. “Look!” shouts John. I put a finger to my lips and say, “Shush! There are classes going on.” As if my words were never spoken John continues. He pushed a piece of paper over to me that seem to have me as Red-Handed Jill with stretched out details strewn across the page. “Brilliant!” I announce. It simply was! It was quite an advanced portrait for someone of seven. “Thank you, John.” I said after bringing in all the details. “It’s time to go home, guys.” We start out toward our house as soon as we adjusted are bags to our back. “Micheal, you haven’t said much, anything on your mind?” snapping out of his glazed stare off to nothingness he finally enlightens us with a response. “I’ve just been thinking of what we’ll be playing once we get home.” “Well, set that aside for a while,” adds John, “because we have to do our homework first.” John said mimicking our mother’s words. “That’s right, John.” Micheal huffed to the right side of me clearly displease with his shoulders hunched. I tapped them and said, trying to lighten the suddenly gloomy mood, “I’m sure if we arrive home soon enough, we’ll be able to have plenty of free time before bed.” With a disheartened okay, we begin to pick up the pace.