The Lost Girl/Children

Peter has come for the Lost Boys after four years of listening to Wendy’s stories in the window. In the beginning of this, there’s a short chapter on Wendy, then it’s a shorter chapter on how Peter came for the Lost Boys.

Wendy Moria Angela Darling was a sweet girl with a head full of dreams. She has the slightly wavy, light brown hair and the shining blue eyes, and she even has that hopeful smile. She was put in the Whole-Town London Orphanage at age seven with her two brothers, John(age two)and Michael(Three months). She always thought that her parents had given her the longest name possible just to abandon her. There, she met her friends(which she calls the lost children): Slightly, Cubby, The twins, Nibs, and little Tootles. The group didn’t tell her their real names, and she wondered if it was because they didn’t even know their names. Slightly was eldest, the same age as Wendy at the time. Slightly was as thin as a twig and could just b-e-a-r-l-y slip through small and narrow crevices. Cubby liked to dress as a bear and act like one, he was three-years-old. The twins were both two and wild. They never told anyone their real names, nor did they speak unless they needed to. When they did speak, however, it was at the same time or they finished each others sentences.

Nibs was a small little girl that seemed to bounce with joy every time Wendy told a story, even if it was a small one. She was the same age as the twins, only getting a little older than them every June, and the twins matched with her every July. Tootle’s was only months old and fierce. He never got a taste of motherly love, so Wendy gives that to him. To the Lost Children, Wendy is their Mother. Wendy was gifted with the power to tell amazing stories, and tell them in such a way that they seemed real. Her gifted mouth was what led Peter to the Orphanage window. After four years in the same Orphanage, doing what seemed like the same things. The only different thing was the stories Wendy told. After four years, Peter arrived at the Orphanage window, and he enjoyed the amazingly true stories about himself. For four more years, Wendy told stories and brightened the children’s stay. Now she was fifteen. And now Peter was fifteen. And now Peter was ready for the Lost Boys

The Lost Boys.

Peter stepped up onto the window ledge, taking a deep breath. The tinker was only scared and concerned. What if they said no? What if they told people about Never-Land? Peter was dressed a normal London teenager- Jeans, T-shirt, Jacket. The only abnormal thing was that he had a little glowing jingling thing buzzing around him, and he had somehow made it to the 20ft high window ledge of the Orphanage room. Peter opened the window ever so little, and the rush of Wendy’s soothing voice came in his ears, calming down every what if. Peter sighed and listened, soaking up the words: “Peter wandered around the coasts, looking for the little gem, for it was only the size of the finger-nail on his pinkie,” Wendy said, holding up her Pinkie to show. Peter sighed thoughtfully, listening to the words. Peter laid his whole weight on the cracked open window, and it opened, and Peter went crashing to the floor. “AGHH!” Peter cried. The Orphanage dog, Nana, barked in surprise. All of the children gasped. All went silent, until Tootles asked, with wonder in his voice: “Peter Pan?”