Prologue
"Don't go Peter," she entreated, "I know such lots of stories." Those were her precise words, so there can be no denying that it was she who first tempted him...
From Peter Pan, JM Barrie.
"'You have your orders lads. We must shoot the Wendy-bird down' Slightly said with a final nod. The Lost Boys all raised their bows, fitted their arrows and prepared to shoot. '3 …2…1!' The arrows whisked away, one straight through the target Tink had drawn in the sky. They watched an arrow hit its mark. The Wendy-bird fell to the ground. Together, they ran to collect it thinking perhaps Peter would like to see the greatness of the shot that felled the great bird. Shock and confusion clouded their faces as they came to the clearing where the Wendy-bird lay. 'That's a lady…' One of them finally uttered. It was then that Peter came flying into the clearing….Okay, that's all for tonight. Get yourselves into bed now." Harper ignored the groans of her siblings as she closed the book. "Now come on. If you don't get into bed soon, tomorrow night's story will be much shorter." With that, all three of them jumped into their beds. She walked over to her youngest brother's bed.
"Good night, Curly." She said ruffling his hair that had earned him that nickname. She handed each of the twins their bears then turned out the large light. The nightlight came to life in a corner, and a series of faerie shaped shadows darted around the walls. It seemed a small voice echoed "Can anything harm us, after the nightlights are lit?" but Harper ignored it and went about straightening up the last of the toys, knowing the voice to simply be an echo left from her great-grandfather's book. Often times the stories filled her mind and left her picturing Neverland, and its one-time inhabitants. With one last glance around the boys' room, she left and started to her room.
However, her curiosity was to be captured when as she happened by the staircase, she overheard her mother and father arguing over something.
"I'm not going to take the children over there. He's crazy... He believes everything your great-grandfather told him!" Her father yelled. Harper knew who he was referring too. For all of her 16 years she had heard the stories of her grandfather and his total belief that his father had been a Lost Boy. She herself had been drawn into her great-grandfather's tales of adventure as a child. How could one not? Tales of flying and of Wendy and of course, the great Peter Pan... Everything was one great adventure! She had wished so desperately that her great grandfather had lived long enough to tell her all about Peter Pan.
Now, of course, she was too old to believe in fairy tales of the sort. Now they were just fun stories she would read to her two brothers while imagining her great-grandfather sitting at the desk she now owned penning them down in his loose and somewhat sloppy cursive. Sometimes, if it was late or if she was in a receptive mood as she was tonight, she would hear the echoes of the stories and imagine herself a character in the great adventures.
"He's dying Nathaniel! I'm not going to deprive him of seeing his grandkids one last time!" Her mother replied and came storming up the stairs. She walked right past her daughter and slammed the door to the master bedroom. Harper walked sullenly to her door. She didn't want her grandfather to die without having said goodbye but she didn't want her parents to fight either. Life was hard the older you got.