A Neverland Tale - HOOKED (eng)

Prologue

„Second star to the right and straight on 'til morning."

Author: Sir James Matthew Barrie (1860 - 1937)

A breeze of mist laid a billowing, grey-white veil over the beating heart of England. A soft whisper rustled away over the gables and tiled roofs of London, rustling through cracks and holes in the houses, groped through chimneys, and tickled the warm flames of small and larger fires in the chimneys there. Long ago, the many windows had been closed and the flickering lights behind them extinguished so that the pulsating silence of late night hours could take hold. But... that was not the case for everyone.

One child raised his eyes to the sky. It was a small boy with light brown strands that lay in wild curls around his chubby little Face. He wearily rested his arms on the window ledge and rested his chin on the palms of his hands. From outside, a cool night breeze blew into the sparsely furnished room, moving the holey curtains like ghostly shadows and soothingly stroking the sleepy child's little nose. But he did not allow himself to be distracted but looked up unflinchingly to the cope of heaven.

From there, a sea of tiny lights shimmered towards him, as if an artist had scattered thousands of diamonds on night-colored velvet. If he closed his eyes and listened intently to the silence - as his mother had always told him in her soft voice - one could sometimes hear the soft whisper and even the sparkle with which the stardust trickled down from the firmament and brushed its moonlight-soaked shine on the exhausted child's eyes. Now and then, on special days - like today - two stars would shine especially brightly, competing with each other and having a great time up there, where they could watch the bustling activity far below them.

The boy blinked against the sleep, but eventually, fatigue prevailed and his eyes fell shut. It took a few minutes for his little face to slip through his hands and he sank wearily onto the window sill. But only a little later, the same night wind he had been keeping company with all this time woke him up. A little confused, his clear eyes opened, blinked and slowly he shook his head. His gaze searched the night sky, scanning over the blue band he knew so well because he looked at it every evening. But... hadn't there been two stars just now?

The boy fixed his gaze on the sky and searched it until he was no longer sure whether he might not have been dreaming. A light sigh was heard before the window was quietly pushed shut and small children's hands painstakingly pushed the latch forward. A thin mattress creaked treacherously under the little bit of weight as the boy pulled his duvet up to the tip of his nose and muffled himself into the stained pillows. Around him, he heard the soothing breaths of the other orphans. Murmurs sigh grumpy snores. It wasn't long before his exhausted eyes fell closed and, like all the other children, the boy sank into a sound slumber.

The night wind peered through the windows for a while longer, silently plucking at the roof tiles and purring against the glass... but no child opened to him at his request or continued to listen to the stories he had to tell. So he stroked on restlessly, drifting over the nocturnal city, playing with a few leaves and caressing the murmuring flow of the Thames, which did not mind the late hour.

By the time morning peaked in windows and over chimneys, the wind had left London behind. It pranced over high cliffs, wide seas, deep gorges, and endless forests. Even if the observer firmly expected it, the night wind did not take its steps indiscriminately. It dawdled a little, picked up speed again, and finally came to an almost complete standstill. Stardust, sun-gold, and wave-glow had caught in the formless mane, invisible to the naked eye, but the wind admired its reflection in the smooth masses of water that rolled along beneath it. An ocean, still dark and black out here, but the closer it came to the small mainland, the more bright azure mixed in.