The once Lost Boys began aging as normal children do and attended school as well. But it was not very long before all their memories of Neverland had vanished, making them not unique any more. Still, they enjoyed the wonderful stories that Wendy would tell to them in her spare time, for recently she had been quite busy.
As she herself had aged, she began to be tutored in the ways of being a lady. Proper manners and etiquette were not very easy for anyone to learn, especially a girl who every night dreamt of fighting pirates with swords, running among the faeries in forest clearings and dancing among the Indians at their celebrations.
Yet in her conscious life, things couldn?t have been more different. Her height had increased by quite a bit, curves began addressing her body in new places and her eyes had slightly darkened, giving them a deep hazel-blue color, mimicking the sky and its clouds at night.
Every week, she would attend parties with other young women her age and bachelors as well. The hope was that she would fall in love with one of the suitors, and would be able to be married off soon. For now Wendy Darling was sixteen years of age, finished with schooling and told that it was proper that she marry before she came into her twenties, lest she wished to be an old maid.
But against their hopes, Wendy did not in fact find a young man who she wished to marry. Plenty of men pursued her, yet she turned them all down. For all of them lacked that boyish charm she remembered from her childhood. Now, the Lost Boys, Michael and John shared two bedrooms, one of them the nursery. Wendy had moved into a spare room, and her parents of course shared their regular bedroom.
Most of the family was now beginning to fall asleep, yet Wendy was still very much awake. Unlike most other girls her age, Wendy chose to wear a simple blouse and pair of trousers in her time at home. For even though the dresses she wore were indeed beautiful, they were hardly comfortable at all. The corsets in particular bothered her greatly, and so the girl would keep them off every opportunity she had.
Sitting at her desk, Wendy was looking through the freshly cleaned clothes of her brothers to put away when she noticed some tears in the fabric. Deciding to remedy the problem, the young woman took out the sewing kit she had been given, and began to fix the clothes. Yet on the last shirt, the needle pricked the skin of her thumb, causing a droplet of blood to form.
Yelping in alarm, Wendy quickly cleaned the wound, and searched for something to protect her thumb, when she stumbled upon her old thimble. Even though many years had passed, Wendy had never forgotten Peter Pan. The first year, she eagerly waited for spring, for Peter claimed he would be returning again. Still, every night she left the window of the nursery open. Spring came and went, yet Peter Pan did not appear that year, nor the next one, or the year after.
Peter must have forgotten of her, Wendy though, though she still kept the window of her own private room open, even on this warm autumn night. It seemed that she would never see the one with whom she shared her first thimble, sitting on the edge of the bed while holding that small piece of metal in her hand, not even noticing the chirping bat that swiftly flew in the moonlight.
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