Pan: The Untold Adventure

Chapter5: Cry for Help

Nights passed with no return of the shadow. She waited each moon phase, but not even a dream graced her. During class, she traced beautiful lines, shapes, that formed long forgotten trinkets that bounced, echoed in her mind. Back & forth, almost a constant steady rhythm like the grandfather clock standing tall in the corner of the room. She was lost in a web of struggling memories, when she heard a distortion of sound.

"Wendy."

Her instructor was standing next to her with a grim look over her face. She was a woman of pale complexion already, however, she was white like snow on the walkways during December. Wendy was startled & confused as her instructor motioned her hand to the door at the back of the room.
Wendy blinked several times before gathering up her belongings. She knew her distractions would cost her greatly.
So, it was detention for Wendy. Two monotonous hours to be used for studying. She found herself correcting her work over & over. She was just too distracted by the prism in her mind. The last dream she could recall.. It was as bright as if it had been dreamed the previous night. Lungs filling, her smile built upon the planes on her face. She fiddled again with the acorn on the silver chain around her neck, a habit she had grown accustomed to.
Time seemed to simmer away, & the last hour passed the same as thirty seconds. What was time to a vast memory slowly creeping into her skin?

Her bag became heavier as she waited for her brother John to retrieve her. He had not appeared & it was growing darker by the second. A chill was in the air as London storm clouds ascended. & the rain began pelting lightly upon her coat. With no umbrella, Wendy decided to walk on home. With each step, she thought it odd that John had not arrived to escort her home. She thought maybe even her father. Did they forget? Oh, surely not.
As dark finally fell, she met her doorstep & the cold mahogany door. The brass doorknob sent a shock through her hand; it burned like ice. The door creaked open and as Wendy was entering, a doctor past her with grim tired features. Eyebrows knitted in confusion, Wendy watched as her turned the corner, water popping against the umbrella he carried.
She could sense Aunt Millicent before she could physically see her, for the perfume she wore was an undoubtedly loud smell, almost cheap & vulgar, but Wendy's senses softened when she heard a quiet weeping.

Something is wrong.

The mere thought pounded through her mind.

Something is wrong.
Something is wrong.

Every beat of her rapid heart was matched by the swiftness of her feet carrying her up the stairway. It seemed to steepen & grow in mass proportion as the weeping grew. Without realizing, Wendy was hyperventilating when she reached the peak. Aunt Millicent was standing just outside what had formerly been the nursery, where John & Michael slept. John was beside her, his cheeks pale & eyes red.

"Oh! Wendy, dear," Aunt Millicent nearly shrieked. John blinked rapidly at her, gaping at the drenched girl. He began stammering, but Wendy's fearful expression only deepened as she crept closer to the scene.

"What happened?"

Wendy's voice was so quiet & soft, it didn't sound the same. John & Aunt Millicent only glanced at each other.

"What. Happened?" Wendy repeated. John struggled internally, Wendy could see it on his face. He looked so pained. His brown eyes were rimmed with a red sadness, & it only made Wendy's worry more exaggerated.

"I'll just.. Go start some tea," Aunt Millicent spoke as she slowly removed herself from the scene. John took Wendy's hand in his. Wendy hadn't realized just how much this young man had grown. At fifteen, he shared her height & his fingertips were calloused from the books & work he furiously concentrated on at their father's hand-me-down desk. This was the closest they had been in months.