Never Grow Up

Chapter 1

It was a windy day as it usually is in Neverland. A breeze flew through the round window of the old tree hut where a young man named Peter Pan lived. He was about 17, yet he didn't know it. He thought that he was younger, never aging, never growing up. But all those visits to a girl named Wendy, who lived in a place called London which was far away and full of responsibility, were allowing him to age as any human would.

You see in Neverland, the place where Peter lived, you didn't grow up, there was no responsibility, no mom or dad, no one to tell you what to do. Only adventure and wonder!

Peter didn't want to grow up; he didn't want Wendy to grow up either but she was. She had already grown into a young lady. Tall, slender with flowing warm brown hair and brilliant blue eyes. Peter thought that she was pretty but far too mature.

When he visited her, she never exactly knew that he was there. He was too afraid of what might happen if he actually said anything to her, that he would fall in love with her again but she would have to leave him, again.

So he visited in secret, watching her play with her brothers and tell them stories from the window cil. She was different from how she used to be. More proper some would say. She would often remind her brothers to play nicely and to act more mature. Yet she was the same in ways; she cared deeply for them and enjoyed playing almost as much as she used to.

As Peter sat in his small tree house reminiscing about Wendy and thinking how much he missed her, he heard a strange noise coming from outside. Hearing this, he stood up and walked out curious to see what it was. As it turns out, one of the lost boys had fallen and deeply scraped his knee. He sniffled and whimpered as he sat cradling his knee, surrounded by the other young boys. Noticing Peter, one spoke:

"He fell while we were playing tag. He can't walk, he says his knee hurts too much! How do we make it stop bleeding?" He asked worried about his friend.

"Well you... Um you... Well..." Peter stammered, honestly not knowing what to do at all.

"Well what do we do?" He asked more urgently as the other boy who had scraped his knee was now a pale white as he glanced at his knee; now blood pouring slowly out of the cut.

"I don't know Curly, I don't!" Peter now angry stomped back into his hut. How was he supposed to know? He was a boy, their leader- not their mother. He paused thinking of Wendy who had once been their mother for a few days. Wendy would've known exactly what to do, he thought. He sighed knowing that he truly missed her. Lately she was all he could think about. Even the wild boys had started asking how she was when Peter returned from his visits.

"That's it." He said out loud to himself.

"What's it?" Said a voice from the top of the slide entrance. Peter turned around to see it was the boy who had scraped his knee, which now he was holding a large soft leaf against.

"This is the third time this week alike that someone has hurt themselves and I've had no idea what to do. Not to mention that we have no food, water, and a lack of clothes! I am not your mother, but you need someone who can help me learn to be a mother for you." Peter explained. Suddenly the boys burst into laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" Peter asked angry.

"Well it's just" one of the boys stepped forward, "you can't be our mother, because your not a girl!"

"Well then you can all go and find your own mother then!" Peter replied angry, turning around and sitting down slouching.

"Peter," one of the wild boys looked up cautiously continuing. "What about Wendy?" The second he said her name Peter looked up.

"What do you mean what about her? She's gone. She left us and went home!" He shouted, his face flushed with anger.

"But you could bring her back! You visit her nearly everyday anyways." A short stubby wild kid said nervously, yet excited.

"I can't. I mean sure we need a mother but we're men! I don't know what I was thinking. We can fend for ourselves fine without a mother, we have for years."

"But-"

"No buts, we don't need a mother and that's final. I can't believe I even thought we did for a moment." Peter interrupted. The boys began to exit, their heads hanging low. The last one to leave turned around and said,

"We miss Wendy Peter. We know you do too." He left closing the door gently behind him. Peter sighed knowing deep down that this was true. He decided that he needed to get her. But when? And how? She was young last time and vulnerable; now she was a young woman more mature and intelligent. He decided that he should just go into her room and grab her by the hand and fly away with her. And that's exactly what he did, or at least attempted to do.