“Small World” - Idina Menzel.
10/10 recommend listening to this song while you read the chapter! Almost included the link because it perfectly fits this emotional, final chapter, but I decided the picture was more crucial in providing closure. Give it a listen while you finish reading, though!
~~~
He invited me on one last flight. Taking out my precious vial of dust, I poured the remainder, took his outstretched hand, and sailed with him above the sunset. The sky turned dark and cool, and thousands of stars lit our path around the constellations. For a second, I looked down over Neverland, capturing a mental image with every beloved location etched into my brain: Skull Rock, the Indian Village, Mermaid Lagoon, Cannibal Cove, the Pixie Dust Tree… It was all so perfect, just like the maps had depicted it. “I want to find my way back,” I thought.
Neverland faded from view all too soon. Before I knew it, we were drifting over London as the peaceful city slept below.
I gripped his hand tighter, but Pan assured me that we weren’t done.
The boy showed me Big Ben and the Pyramids and Taj Mahal. The Wonders of the World held a different splendor from above, and I was overcome by an eerie sense of how small I was. Pan laughed and kissed my forehead and guided me through the clouds. It was everything I’d dreamed of as a girl who told stories in the street. Although it hadn’t happened at all how I’d envisioned, I wouldn’t have my journey go any other way.
At last, however, the magic ran low. It was time to go home.
Although I hadn’t seen it - in dreams or otherwise - in ages, I instantly recognized my top-story window. The shutters were closed but unlocked, per usual. The closer we got to the sill, the heavier my heart weighed.
Pan carefully set me down as the last speck of my pixie dust faded away. He remained in the air, floating, dreading the goodbye as much as I.
How do you summarize such a moment in mere words? Neither of us could, so we just sat, holding each other, on the brink of two realities that could never truly intertwine. He was too dangerous, and I was too real.
“One what?” I finally asked.
Pan smiled. “Huh?”
“You once said that it takes one to know one. One what? What are we?”
The boy placed his hand on his chin, playfully pondering my question. All the while, he and I mentally shared in replaying the memory. That last tender moment under the stars played in such bright color that it almost seemed real.
“I’m not sure,” he said finally. “When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”
I swore that I’d hold him to it. “Whatever it is,” I added, “I think you and I are the same.”
He smiled. “I think we are, Lost Girl.” With those words and a tender kiss on the forehead, Peter Pan flew away from my window and disappeared in the second star to the right. Left with a new emptiness and dread of the quiet, I sat at the window until the morning arose and Neverland’s glimmer faded from view.
The next night, I wished for Pan to return to my window once more. The second star to the right shimmered with a particular brightness, and my longing for Neverland particularly ached. I cried for the Lost Boys, cried for Tinkerbell, even cried for the pirates. More than anything, I cried for Peter Pan.
How do you explain that kind of longing while living in the real world?
YOU ARE READING
Lost Girl || Complete
Fantasy"We've all heard the story of Peter Pan. The carefree hero, sworn enemy of pirates, defender of the innocent. Well, they didn't get it quite right... He's nothing like that. And I should know; I met him." ~~~ Based on OUAT's take on the classic cha...
