Pan: The Untold Adventure

Chapter3: Shadow on the Wall

Wendy dashed to the opened window. Her mother & father were sleeping soundly. John was probably reading a book about banking & Michael had went to bed hours ago. No one simply entered her room other than Aunt Millicent, but she was not here tonight.
Had she opened it? Why, no. She hadn't been in her room since she dressed after breakfast. However, she felt no fear. Confusion perhaps. Definitely curious. She turned to her darkened room, seeing by the dim moonlight. Nothing was out of place; her bed was neatly made. Everything on her desk was still a hurricane of organized chaos. All was as it should be. All except the window.
Turning her attention back to the window, she took a small step toward it. Delicate fingers rested on the wooden pane. Shimmering blue eyes skimmed the outline of London.
"Maybe... I did leave it open by mistake," she thought. No matter how much she tried to convince herself she had opened it, she knew deep down she hadn't. While she studied on the strange anomaly, hairs prickled on her neck. Quickly, Wendy spun to find...
Nothing. What was going on? There in her room she stood alone. But again, there was a slight rift in the atmosphere that signified to her senses she wasn't alone.
"Hello?" She spoke quietly. Wendy wasn't expecting an answer, but her voice cut through the silence & gave her security.

Wendy.

She turned quickly. It was so faint, Wendy wasn't entirely sure she actually heard her name. Suddenly behind her, the slight sound of a tropical bird filled the air.
"So very peculiar." The thought drifted through her mind.
Wendy took small steps around her room, turning her head & shifting her eyes to fully capture every detail. She still hadn't lit the lamp on her nightstand. There was this notion Wendy had that if she were to turn it on, this little game she was seemingly playing alone would end all too quickly.
Troubles differed from children to adults, & Wendy still had a bit of growing up left, so she deliberately enjoyed the mystery of shadows.
Her window was still raised, & her curtains still swept in the breeze. The shadows distorted the moonlight, creating a vision of her room floating, dancing. The shadows from the curtains morphed into clouds on her walls.

That is what Wendy envisioned.

Her imagination was a powerful & incredible thing. She kept it suppressed, buried down, no longer could she write or invent new stories & adventures. But tonight, something took hold of her. She could hear an ocean, feel the warm summer wind caress her skin. She could smell flowers in the air around her.

Warmth.

Freedom.

Living.

A smile gripped her face so intently, Wendy began laughing. A memory swept over her of a sunset & glitter shinning in the sky, but when she opened her eyes & it vanished. Only the silhouettes remain.
Suddenly, the ribbon holding her hair back disappeared, distracting her from her disappointment. Honey waves tumbled down her back. The only sound was Wendy's gasp echoing off her bedroom walls.
"I must be going crazy," she said aloud, with a small smile lingering on her lips. She bent to pick up her ribbon where it lay on the floor & shook her head, then turned up her lamp. Her room shone from the light of her lamp & there were no more dancing shadows. With a sigh, Wendy stepped to her window. As she reached to close it, she paused.

Why should she?

Her eyes glanced outside once more, taking in the night to see anything strange, but all was well. Sighing, she slid the window only half way down. Fresh air was a sort of simple freedom, & she was allowed to take it when she pleased, Wendy decided for herself.
Her father denied having her window opened in the night, but she knew he wouldn't disturb her this late. George never knocked on his daughter's door, nor did he once enter. So, she doubted he would ever find out.
Wendy didn't feel rebellious at this action, however. She felt like a bird having their cage opened long enough to barely taste freedom, & for now it would suffice. She wanted nothing more than to truly feel her freedom, but in growing up, one must learn to set boundaries for themselves. Freedom was a childish memory, like the desire to never grow up. That's what her mother had said over & over at dinner or midday tea. She drifted from her mother & brothers. Her brothers drifted to their father, who defined Wendy as an air-headed girl & that she must study to become a grounded, well rounded adult. She felt so alone in her home. She took a deep, full breath to calm her ranting thoughts, & concentrated on this new feeling around her.
Wendy knew something had changed. She couldn't place exactly what that was; she just knew she wasn't alone anymore. The disturbance in the air around her gave her skin a prickly tingle. She wasn't in her own company, she knew for certain, & this nursed her feelings of loneliness.
Wendy settled into bed, into the beauty of the night, the shadows, & her dreams. The acorn found it's way into her grasp once more. This odd talisman she possessed against her skin gave her secret joy. Taking it between her finger & thumb, Wendy lifted the acorn to her soft lips for a kiss of luck, or a possible silent prayer. Her lips stayed a few moments longer, memorizing how smooth & soft the object felt. Soon, her breathing became soft & even, & she was fast asleep.

Little did Wendy know her kiss was seen by a pair of shinning eyes peaking into her window. The pair of dirty, rough hands had touched the glass the previous night, & kept it warm through slight showers & chilly wind. A strange young man, deft of a feather. There, he floated, silent as a predator stalking it's prey.

He watched the scene play out as she readied herself for bed; how beautiful she had grown, but also that she had grown. She was every bit of what he had observed women to be. The robe snaked down her arms as it was removed, & he could see how mature her body had become underneath the cream satin nightgown. Her legs were long & slender, & her skin was striking pale, slightly flushed with emotion. Deep wine lips, bold & full like the grandest of rosebuds. Soft peaks on her chest rising softly as her breaths caressed her lungs. She was the image of a glowing young woman. Wendy was what men called an angel, a siren, any interpretation would do. She was simply beautiful. It caused a lump in his throat & his heart accelerated deep in his chest. He could no longer find his breath, she was a storm taking the very air around him & leaving him full yet hollow. The little girl he once knew had all but faded. The only thing that hadn't drastically changed were her eyes. They were still cerulean, clear & deep like the night sky.
Often, he would travel by her home, to maybe catch a glimpse of her. It was difficult most of the time because he was unable to touch the glass barrier that kept Wendy from his reach. The magic he was comprised from would not allow it, but it was somehow as tuned to Wendy as he.
As the young woman grew, the young man grew as well. This frightened him, because he was the self proclaimed boy who would never grow up. Yet here he was, sharing the pace of age with her. Wendy may have forgotten over time, but he simply could not.

He remembered when she locked her window tight.

He remembered when she stopped crying for him.

He remembered when she put away the necklace.

He remembered his heart breaking, & the realization that he had lost her.

But the night she retrieved the necklace, he was there, watching as she opened the window. Astounded & in awe of this young woman, so fragile yet so strong, trying to grasp the memory of him, & his home, trying to hold on to the last piece of her innocence.
She slept soundly & he craved a closer look. Her window was not closed, & he took it as an interpretation that he may enter, an open invitation, but he was afraid he could not cross over, because young ladies were not allowed the company of young men such as himself. Eyes closed, he inhaled deeply as though he would never breathe again. He plunged through the air, & when he opened his eyes, he found himself in her room.
He didn't understand the drastic change, or how this allowed him to cross over the invisible wall that kept her away, but seeing Wendy this close for the first time in five years, he didn't care one bit. He had sent his shadow to play a game in the dark with her, & she smiled. He hadn't caught her smile in what seemed a lifetime. A laugh escaped her throat & it was sweeter than a honeysuckle. Wendy's hair had lengthened to halfway down her back, & his eyes delighted in how it caught the moon beams.
Chills ran down his spine as he was entranced by her shadow, how it moved as she lit the lamp, & he felt a wave of relief wash over his skin when she didn't shut the window.
All of those things sent shocks through him, but nothing compared to seeing her skin glow as she slept.
He slid his vision across her porcelain skin glowing with subtle effervescence; it reflected the velvet moonlight into his eyes. Instead of sitting beside her or floating vigilantly above her, he chose to sit on the window pane, lifting the glass so the he could get comfortable. Eyes watched over her as she slept. Many nightmares were witnessed over the past few years, but tonight, Wendy slept soundly. Soon, a smile lit up the young man's face. It was possible for him to gain entrance! Here, he sat on her windowsill, only a short distance from her. In this private moment he shared with Wendy & the night enveloping their tiny world, he vowed to gain her trust once more. He would not lose her again. He knew there was a chance for her memory to return. He only hoped she would choose to remember.