Stranger

   I'm sorry I didn't fight harder for you. I loved you. I still love you, more so now than ever before. I know more often than not it seems like I have forgotten about you or forsaken you for others, but trust me, you are always on my mind.
   You were, and always will be, my first love. My one true love. You were always with me, right from the beginning. You stayed with me, all through the sleepless nights and all through the storms. Truth be told, sometimes I think you saved me.
   And even though I turned my back on you, you stayed loyal. You stayed strong so I would stay strong. But lately I feel you slipping away from me. Maybe you finally realised that I'm not worthy of you.
   After all, how long are you supposed to stand this abuse? I seek you out and then I reject you. I cry for you and then I leave you behind. I ask you for help and then I condemn you.
I'm surprised you even stayed this long.
   I don't know if I should fight for you or let you go. Maybe if I let you go, you'll find someone who will treat you better. But if I let you go, will that mean letting my love go? Am I selfish? Am I a coward? No doubt about that. I am selfish and I am a coward.
   I hide behind shadows and blame others. Excuse after excuse. It was never my fault. The blame always fell on the people around me.
   I even blamed you sometimes. I mistreated you, misused you, twisted you this way and that way, and all the while claiming that I loved you.
   You first came to me when I was hurting and offered me hope and companionship. I still need you. I'm still hurting. I'm still scared. I am so sorry for the way that I have behaved. I am so sorry for the way that I treated you. Please forgive me.
   I am a coward.
   All those times you wanted me to speak up for myself and I forced you away, choking on the bitter taste of swallowed words. All those times you told me to let you free so I could let myself be free, and I chained you up inside. All those times you urged me that my thoughts had value so I could recognise that you had value, and I erased you like you were worthless. I buried you along with my voice and I buried myself, and now I am constantly suffocating.
Somewhere along the line, I lost myself. Buried under a mountain of excuses, of hopelessness, of worthlessness.
   Will you help dig me out? I'm alone in the dark like I was the first time you came to me. Help me find the light again?
   Help me find me again.
   So I can finally find you again.
   My lost love. My lost words.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 9

When night spreads her dark cloak upon the horizon, I sit by my window, holding my breath. I hope he comes. After last night, he might have given up on me. The ticking of the clock is maddening. As the hands spin the hours, I feel my hope fading.
I close my eyes and send out a wish, so that he might hear me. I open my eyes and there he is. That wonderful smile of his restores my spirits.
He enters after I open the window for him.
"I'm sorry."
"Wendy, you did nothing wrong."
"I've been thinking of you all day long."
He takes my hand in his.
"Come."
Still holding my hand, he leads me outside. I smile, happy to follow him.
This time he takes me to an island. It seems to be deserted as I see no signs of life. We sit on the sand. His hand has not left mine since the moment he held it.
We watch the waves roll up. I draw little circles in the sand with my bare toe. He looks down and grins ruefully.
"Perhaps I should warn you to bring your shoes next time."
"I think that would be good. At least we're not standing on rocks."
"Sorry again. I should have thought of it. But I was excited to see you."
"Me too."
We sit there, talking, until dawn. When the first splashes of pink appear on the dark blue sky, he turns to me.
"I should take you home."
I nod reluctantly.
We stand, say our goodbyes, and he sends me home.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 8

My mother and I are out running errands all day long. By the time I reach my home, I am so tired I can barely walk up the stairs. I clean up and collapse onto my bed. The second my head hits my pillow, my eyes close and I fall blissfully into a deep slumber.
I dream of him again that night.
He is trying to convince me he is real, and I just smile and nod. But I know the truth. I simply play along. It is only a dream after all. There is no harm playing along and falling into the fantasy in a dream.
As soon as daybreak arrives, I awaken. Instead of feeling refreshed as I should after such a restful sleep, I feel disoriented and confused. And disturbed.
Something is niggling at me from the deep corner of my mind. I try to shake it off as I get up and start to clear my bed.
I lift up my pillow. There is nothing there.
The sun reaches my bed and decides to rest there.
It all comes rushing back at me.
Peter, holding my hand and pleading with me. Me, nodding along with every word.
Peter, telling me that he is here for me, trying to convince me that I have been calling for him.
Me, finally tiring of these illusions and shutting him out.
Peter, holding the star in his hands as he leaves my room, disappointed.
Peter, leaving a trail of silver dust from my bed to the window.
Peter, the one I have been calling for in my dreams.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 7

I am awakened by the sun's insistent glare. I open my eyes drowsily and look around, expecting to see the sun nearby.
I am on my wooden bed, on my comfortable mattress.
I am back in my room.
Disappointment surges through me and I flop back on my pillow.
Had it all been a dream?
It must be. I nearly laugh out loud if not for the deep disappointment. How silly I was to think that it was all real.
I look around my pillow, thinking that the star must have been part of the dream as well.
Sure enough, there was no star.
There is a knock on my door, then my mother enters.
"Wendy, wake up. We have a lot of work to do today."
I nod and she leaves. I close my eyes for a moment and recall the memory of holding the star in my hands.
Ridiculous, really.
Well, it was time to go back to reality.
I climb out of bed and head for the bathroom for a shower.
My mother calls for me to hurry because we are running late. I have a quick shower and dress hurriedly, rushing out the door without making my bed.
Had I looked back, I would have seen a corner of a star peeping from under the pillow.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 6

I take a tentative step forward. Peter is watching me and smiling encouragingly. I kneel and touch the cloud with my hand. It feels like the softest silk slipping through my fingers. It feels real enough.

My earlier denial is quickly dissipating. This is real. I stand up and begin walking, then skipping across the cloud. I go as close to the edge as I dared to and look down. A city, alive with lights, is sleeping below me.

No, not a city. A whole country. How high up were we?

Peter comes up behind me. He gently places a hand on my back and nudges me forward a little. "You can sit there on the edge. You won't fall."

"Uhm, no. I'm fine."
He laughs. To prove his point, he steps in front of me and walks to the outer edges of the cloud. He sits and carelessly dangles his legs in the empty air.
I am still unconvinced. I am perfectly happy where I am. I sigh and lay down happily, enjoying the silky caress of the cloud on my back. I stare up at the stars for some time, before feeling my eyes grow heavy.
I try to call out to Peter to take me home but my lips refuse to cooperate. My eyes are barely open and I decide to just give in to the floating sensation.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 5

   "Will you come play with me tonight?" 

   I hesitate. The star was a very thoughtful and special gift but he is still a stranger. 

   Yet, there is something so familiar about him. As if he is a forgotten dream from the past.

   He smiles and takes my hand.

   "Shall we?"

   I nod. I feel sure that I can trust him. He leads me to the window ledge, holding my hand firmly in his.

   "Close your eyes," he whispers to me. "And think of the one place you would love to be in right now."

   I close my eyes and one image pops into my mind immediately. I frown because it is impossible. I try to think of someplace else, but before I can he is calling to me.

   "Wendy, open your eyes."

   I do as he says. As soon as my brain registers what I see around me, my knees go weak and I almost collapse.

   Almost. I did not fall because he catches me quickly, holding me tightly.

   "Peter." The name escapes from my lips. I am surprised. I repeat the name again, looking at him.

   He smiles and looks pleased. "You remember."

   I shake my head weakly. I still feel shaken and unsteady. 

   "Not real. A dream," I  mumble.

   "It is real."

   "No. A dream. So long ago." I look around me, half in wonder and half in denial.

   He laughs. "This is real."

   I look down at my feet. There is no way this is real. It is just not possible.

   My bare toes are touching cotton candy.

   He lets go of me and sits down on the cotton candy.

   This cannot be real. I must have fallen asleep while waiting for him.

   He starts playing with the fluffy candy while I have this mental debate with myself.

   How else can you explain how I'm standing on a cloud?

   

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 4

   I awake the next morning with a smile. With the arrival of the sun, the star's brightness has faded but there is still a faint glow. 

   I find myself skipping about the house, which earned my mother's disapproval glance.

   "A young lady does not prance about the house like a horse," she scolds me.

   I bow my head in a show of regret at her words, but I really bow my head to hide the huge smile on my lips.

   The day seems to go on forever as I wait for nightfall. 

   Finally, darkness creeps into the house and it is time for bed.

   I refrain from running up the stairs and force myself to take one small step after the other.

   When I reach my room, I rush towards the window and look outside. The moon has come out, and the stars dancing, but there is no sign of him.

   I am disappointed. I am surprised that I am disappointed. I sit on my bed and look at the star, which is shining brilliantly once again. I hold it and smile.

   I am interrupted by a tapping. This time it is a welcome sound. I look up and, sure enough, there he is.

   I walk over to the window to let him in.

   "Who are you?"

   "You know who I am. You have been calling for me."

   I am deeply puzzled. He does not look familiar at all. And how could I call on a magical boy when I did not even know magic existed before last night?

 

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 3

   Despite my mother's voice screaming warnings in my head, I walk over to the window. There is something so innocent, yet wicked, about his face that fascinates me. I lift the window and he enters my room. 

   "Hey!" I snap. The nerve of him! I was only going to have a look at what he held in his hand, not have him flitting about my room.

   He stops right in front of me and opens his cupped hand. The angry words disappear as I look down. 

   I gasp as I see it. There in his hand is the sweetest, most perfect star. It was brighter than any diamond I had ever seen. 

   "Here," he moves closer to me. "This is for you. To show you that magic is real."

   I am frozen. I cannot move. I cannot speak. I am absolutely captivated by the star.

   He gently takes my hand and lifts my fingers so they fold around the star. 

   After an eternity, I finally find my voice. "Thank you."

   He nods. 

   "But, why are you giving me this?"

   "Because I want to see you smile."

   He gazes at my face for a moment and smiles. Without another word, he leaves my room and leaves me alone.

   I walk back to my bed and place the star next to me. I wonder if he will come back tomorrow night.

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 2

   I wake early the next morning, feeling refreshed. That immediately put me in a cheerful mood and I begin to go about my day.

   However, by lunchtime the cheerful mood was slowly fading. The boy from the night before is persistently in my thoughts, just as he was persistently tapping on my window last night.

   I try to push him aside. Unfortunately, this time, Miss Mclachlan was unable to help me block him out.

   By bedtime, I am in a foul mood. I have a nice, stable life and am perfectly content with things as they are and this, this boy dares to invade my life? Who does he think he is anyway?

   As if he knows that I am thinking about him, the familiar tapping invades my private rant. I turn towards the window. Sure enough, there he is, grinning impishly and looking a right mess.

   "Ah, but what an adorable mess," a voice whispers unexpectedly.

   The voice in my head.

   I frown and watch him as he waves at me. I will not go to him. I am a sensible girl and I do not allow strange boys into my room. 

   He sees my sour expression and stops tapping and waving. He looks at me for a moment before flying away.

   Flying? Hold on, did he really fly? But that's impossible. 

   "Magic." His reply to my question last night pops into my mind.

   I shake my head and tell myself not to be silly. Magic only exists in books and in dreams. Not in real life. I walk back to my bed and climb in.

   Just as I am about to turn off the light, the tapping begins again. I look up in surprise. I thought my sour disposition was enough to turn him away.

   Apparently not.

   He is gesturing excitedly for me to come to him. There is something cupped in the palm of his hand. 

   I think he wants to show me what it is.

   I hesitate. 

   Do I ignore him again or do I walk over to him?

The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 1

   I'm looking out at the boy standing on the window ledge. He's tapping the glass insistently and is grinning cheekily at me. I'm a sensible girl. I'm not going to let some strange boy walk into my life like that.
   But he keeps tapping away, eyes imploring me to open the window. I try to ignore him and hide beneath the covers. Tap, tap, tap. Oh, go away.
   But the sound is really getting on my nerves. I throw back the covers and stomp over to the window, glaring at the boy. He stops tapping and starts waving, smiling cheerfully all the while. I lift up the window a little and snap at him, "What do you want?"
   "Come play with me," he replies.
   I'm ready to explode. "Are you insane? It's way past midnight! And I don't even know you!"
   "I can bring magic into your world," he promises.
   "How did you even get on the ledge?"
   "Magic."
   I slam the window shut and close the curtains. He immediately begins knocking on the glass again. I grab my iPod off the desk, crawl back under the covers, slip on the earphones and fall asleep to Sarah Mclachlan.