The Lost Land
The bold typing is me talking, Okay? And this story goes a little into detail about London. If there’s British readers I might get, I apologize if I get the description wrong, this is only comin’ from my imagination, I apologize.
The Lost Land
The little Tinker Fairy rubbed at her hair, trying to smooth it somehow but also trying not to disturb the messy bun on the top of her head. Concern, worry, and anger would flash on her face at different times. The fairy didn’t actually look like the normal fairy would; most fairies would dress in the finest suits or gowns, wearing the most beautiful diamonds and jewels, smiling smugly at her while she stormed away angrily. The Tinker Fairy would be dressed in a evergreen leaf(for evergreen leaves in Never-Land always stayed green and soft and wearable) and had soft blonde hair and soft pink lips, whilst the other girl fairies had those bright red lipsticks to show off. Once upon a time, the fairy was younger and loved, and her mother showed her how to make a simple dress out of the fine Evergreen leaves, witch is what she was wearing at the moment. The tinker yearned for that motherly love again, but her mother had passed on and she was alone. No one to teach her things and tell her stories, no one to love her and comfort her. This gave her that hot little attitude and made it harder for her to trust others.
The tinker didn’t enjoy London, but visited to see the sweet little Pan. Now, though, the little Pan needed someone to care for it. She groaned in frustration. Why did she ever come for the baby? Broad daylight- How idiotic she had been! She did want to see the child and maybe even play, but in daylight? Where the Mother could’ve seen her? The tinker fairy gripped the little stroller, and groaned once more. The little child awoke with a start, yawning softly. “Peter? Listen, I’m taking you to Never-Land. I’ll find someone to care for you. You’ll really love it there, it’s a beautiful place-” The little Tinker was cut off by a soft cry. She turned toward the little baby and saw that it was reaching for her once again, looking terrified and yearning for a mother. A little bubble seemed to form in the tinker’s heart, and smiled warmly at the child. “Don’t worry, little Peter. I’ll take care of you.” She jingled, and soared-happily, now, with a beaming smile- and flew the rest of the way to Never-Land.
It had been eleven years of Peter’s life before he went back to London. Of course, it wasn’t to stay. The tinker, or Tinker Bell, had protected him and gave him millions of adventures and fun in the moist jungles of Never-Land. On the fateful day he went back, The London sky was clear and the stars shone brighter than the moons on Never-Land. He even past that huge clock! The huge second-hand seemed to shake to world every time it moved, and Peter earned to see how the earth felt every time the hour hand shook! Peter ran across the rooftops, jumping from building to building while flying. He slowed to a stop at a building, one that seemed drab and sad. He flew to the nearest window and sat on the ledge, and peered inside. Why, there were children in there! “Look, Tink!” Peter gasped, wiping away the dust on the window. There he saw a group of boys crowded around a small girl. The girl seemed to be the center of attention. She had light brown hair and shining blue eyes. She had a hopeful smile. When she spoke, all of the children leaned toward her, soaking up the words like sponges with water. Unlike most girls Peter had seen below, she just wore her full lips plainly and her cheeks were the slightest t of pink. Maybe she was in the wind? Her hair waved slightly and prettily, and she seemed like Peter’s age.
Peter opened the window, just a crack, so he could hear the words she was saying. “..And Peter sliced at the Pirate, nearly missing the skin on Hook’s ear!” she was saying, making a slicing motion with her hands. Peter felt his cheeks redden and grow hot. Was she talking about him? Tinker Bell pulled at Peter’s shirt, trying to get his attention. “Let’s go!” She jingled nervously. “Tink, let’s stay! I wanna hear!” Peter shook her off and stared into the window dreamily. Who is this girl? he wondered. “‘Hah!’ Hook said evilly. ‘You missed me!’ Peter only laughed at Hook. ‘I won’t miss this time!’ Peter said, and then pushed that Captain Hook back, and the glowing Tinker Bell shone her glow in his face, blinding hook, and then Peter brought down his blade..” The girl rose an invisible sword.. “AND CUT OFF HOOK’S HAND!” She shouted, and brought the imaginary blade down on someone’s hand. The boys gasped in harmony. After a moment of silence, one of the boys said: “What happened next, Wendy?” “Well, Michael,” The girl began, scooping up the boy, “Peter threw the hand to the Tick-Tock-Croc, who was waiting beside the pirate ship, and the crocodile gobbled it up gratefully and promised to help Peter anytime he’s in need. Hook, however, howled in pain and stared in shock at his stub of a hand.” Wendy stood up and rocked the boy like a mother. “And?” Said another younger child. “Come here, Tootles,” Wendy said, and she scooped up the other boy and began to tell. “The Tick-Tock-Croc now has a taste for Hook meat, and Hook wears, well, a hook, on his hand for the rest of his days and now even fears the slightest tick of a clock. You know what Peter does, he’s still battling Hook,” Wendy smiled mischievously.
Peter shut the window and smiled, a dreamy, happy smile. These stories were true! Peter DID cut off the hand of a Pirate, and he did indeed feed the hand to the crocodile! Tinker Bell only looked in the window, jealous and concerned. How did this Wendy know? How did this Wendy know exactly how that battle went down? Peter didn’t show a single care, he just flew to the rooftop with that same happy and carefree smile on his face, with some butterflies in his stomach. “Let’s go home, Tink! We’ll come again tomorrow!” Peter exclaimed, and Tink sighed. “To Never-Land and back. I wonder how long it’ll take me to memorize this trail,” Tink said, and two flew off, one miserably happy and the other miserably concerned.
