I wrote this a few years ago. Still mediocre, not to mention cheesy, but it's my only work that is not "original". Why the quotation marks? Secret. :D

One day, I’ll get tired of this shit. Just give me a little more time. I’m sure I’ll get over this sooner or later. And for the record, I wrote this because I was inspired by the Peter Pan movie’s bittersweet ending. That, and because the guy who played as Peter was incredibly cute. So, don’t get too flattered with this one.

You know who you are, boy.

Neverland Retold

I stared at my own reflection from the TV screen.

I have just watched the movie Peter Pan, switched the DVD player and TV set off, eaten all the popcorn and cried.

The movie was all about flying, happy thoughts, nasty pirates, little boys who wanted a mother and the choice of whether to grow up or not. Needless to say, it wasn’t really tear-jerking at all. I felt sad and cried at the final scene nevertheless.

The movie ended with a solid conclusion: Captain Hook was dead. Peter Pan went home to Neverland and never grew up, while Wendy chose to grow up in London, married another man and never saw or heard from Peter again. It didn’t need a sequel. It was basically decisive. Definitive. Final. And yet I still wasn’t satisfied.

Why did Peter refuse to grow up? It might have been because he knew that once he grows to become a man, the boy he was before would be forgotten forever. But that is the thing with growing up, isn’t it? It’s leaving the past behind and moving forward. Maybe he just didn’t want change. Personally, I think he was brave enough to stand by his principles and beliefs. At the same time, he was also a coward for denying change. When he let go of the chance to live in London, he also let go of Wendy.

Why did he retreat to Neverland anyway? Nobody’s waiting for him there. The Lost Boys were in London. The pirates were gone. Sure, Tinkerbell would have yearned for him but she still had a fairy family. What’s there left for him to go back to? Wendy, “his only joy” as the narrator pointed out, stayed in London. Wasn’t that a perfectly good reason to live there too? Wendy would’ve cared for him, loved him and would’ve been with him for as long as they lived. Wasn’t that enough?

And what about their first kiss? I thought that was special. That it actually meant something. A pact of some kind. The pact that was supposed to bind them and won’t let them leave each other’s side.

Shit. I was being such a loser. I knew I was being stupid for going hysterical over a boy who wore a loincloth, and his would’ve been-love life. And yet somehow, I also knew that I wasn’t crying because of that particular rated-PG fantasy movie anymore.

For another kind of movie has already flashed in my thoughts. And it wasn’t a fictional fantasy this time. It was from real life.

Specifically, my own.

God, I’ve already lost count as to how many times I’ve written and re-written it. And I admit. The plot I designed was overdone and so cliché that it’s not even remotely interesting anymore. But I still had to do it, simply because it needs to be done. It pains me to recollect, but I wouldn’t cease to anyway. Pain is a wonderful companion to loneliness, so I embrace it. Just like the way I hold on to my cliché-ish personal films because really, they’re the only ones I have left.

I was pathetic, and I knew it. But still the tears would not stop falling.

In my mind for the nth time, I hit the proverbial replay button once again. And my film began to unfold.

I was Wendy.

You were Peter Pan.

It started relatively the same. You flew unexpectedly into my life and then I asked you, ‘Boy, why are you crying?’ You said you were crying because you couldn’t mend your shadow. I sewed and fixed and mended it for you, do you remember? In turn, you taught me how to fly. You brought me out my impossibly ordinary life and led me to our little Neverland. We shared that special kiss. Then I told you lots of stories that all ended with a ‘happily ever after’. Those adventures were the best ones I ever had. We had all sorts of fun, hadn’t we?

But then the pirates came. Doubts began to settle and yet we still didn’t give in at that time. I wanted to believe that everything was not just make-believe, and you tried to hold on. But the pirates were so many, you couldn’t take them down. Suddenly, our supposed magical world didn’t seem so magical anymore.

Wendy needed to go. She asked Peter to come with her. She would’ve cared for him, loved him and would’ve been with him for as long as they lived, if only he’d stay with her. But Peter refused.

Why did Peter let go of Wendy?

And then we realized that our fairytale was about to end. It was abrupt, but we both knew it was time for the final scene. You promised to come back to hear me tell stories again, although I knew you really wouldn’t. And then in turn, I promised to prepare new ones, even if I knew that in time, I would only tell those stories to others and not to you.

The finishing credits began to roll and the finale was relatively the same.

Peter Pan went back to Neverland.

And Wendy, the girl who chose to grow up, went on with her life, just as if she’d never been to Neverland and never met a certain boy. Oh, it’s not because she forgot everything. It’s just that as years pass, memories also fade. Soon, her adventures as a young girl became nothing more than a distant memory. A beautiful one, but still just a memory nonetheless- a mere memory so blurred and twisted by time that she often doubted whether it had been real or not. She still told lots of stories like before, this time to her own daughter. There is one story though, that’s just too old, too sad, and too complicated to tell.

It’s the story about a boy she once knew before- a boy who could laugh with his sorrows, fly with his dreams, and fight for his beliefs. A boy who was said to have a lot of things, and yet let go of the very person that to him. meant everything… simply because he didn’t want to grow up.