It is said that us fairies are so small in size that we can only feel one emotion at a time. And ever since I met Peter, all I felt was admiration.
I had been in love with Peter since I can remember. You could call me a fool. Fairies were supposed to just stay with their families. Humans posed as grave threats for us fairies. But when I saw Peter stalking in the woods with his band of lost boys, I couldn’t help but to be amazed. He was a very rugged boy, older than all the lost boys. His stance and movement summoned the boys to follow him and his orders. His expertise in sword fight made him notorious especially for pirates. His charm and good looks had always captivated the mermaids, and without blinking – they would kill for him. He was like an urban legend for the rest of Neverland, because nobody believed anyone could be as good as he was said to be. Tiger Lily knew better though. She and Peter had been close even before I had met the pack. Truth be told, I had never been fond of her. All I could feel for her was jealousy. But little did I know jealousy, until Peter met Wendy.
Wendy was really… Normal. Until the end, I didn’t understand what Peter, or any of the boys, saw in her that made her special enough to go home to Neverland with us. Why did Peter ask her to be the mother of the boys? Why did Peter reveal the beautiful secrets of Neverland to a foreign girl? She was nobody until Peter gave her notice. She was just someone who knew how to sew.
I wondered, if I weren’t so tiny, would Peter have noticed me? Would he have finally loved me? Could I have made Peter as happy as how Wendy had? But though he could never see me as how he saw Wendy, I loved him still. I loved him constantly.
Wendy chose to grow up. Before Peter and I left, Wendy asked, “You won’t forget me, will you?” “Never,” Peter replied. But I knew it was a lie.
As she returned to her family, Peter looked at me and whispered, “Let’s go home, Tink.” That was one of the rare moments he looked me in the eye. I finally had Peter all to myself. There was not even one lost boy for Peter to take care of. Not even Hook to keep him distracted. No boys. No Wendy. There was nobody else but me. As I flew with him side by side, I looked at his eyes and I recognized sadness. In return, I felt sad too.
When there was no more Wendy or the lost boys, Peter changed. When we came home to Neverland, he didn’t leave his bed for days. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Peter was so absent, that winter fell to Neverland. Winter came as cold as he was. This season wasn’t good for Neverland, even for us fairies. We didn’t have enough warmth in our bodies to stay alive in this deep of winter.
One by one, fairies fell like kids stopped believing we existed. New fairies didn’t last long, either. If winter didn’t end soon, fairies would be extinct. I tried to care for him, but he shooed me away. He didn’t want to see me. That didn’t stop me though. I still watched him even when he slept. I flew close to him and saw his loneliness despite being asleep. I fixed his hair from his eyes and stared at the boy who Wendy needed to take care of. I whispered in my teeny tiny voice and asked, “You won’t forget me, will you?”
I walked away as a tear fell from my eye. In my heart, I knew the answer.
I traveled to London and I found the familiar window. I knew they would’ve left the window open for Peter, just in case. To my surprise – it wasn’t. I had to sneak in through the hinges to make it inside their nursery. I saw Michael, John and the lost boys all together sitting in one big table as they did their own things. I had never seen the boys so well-behaved and neat. They didn’t notice me enter the room and exit to the halls.
I flew around the house and looked for Wendy. And when I examined her, she changed. Her change was not similar to Peter. She wasn’t sulking in her bed; She was humming. Wendy waltzed around the room as she combed her hair incessantly. She seemed to grow a day quicker than other girls.
Wendy noticed me, and was terribly shocked and terrified. She was struck dumb. She gawked at me curiously, not knowing how to react – And that was when I knew. I knew she had no memory anymore. She grew up.
How could she do this to Peter? How could she grow up? Peter would be back for her for spring-cleaning, only to find out the Wendy he came for wasn’t here anymore. Peter would be miserable.
I couldn’t let that happen.
With all the pixie dust I had, I showered myself upon Wendy. Dust by dust, I sprinkled every bit of memory I had with Peter. I closed my eyes tight, hoped and wished that every piece of me would be poured over to her. I remembered all the emotions I had felt – the amazement when I first saw Peter, the excitement from all the adventures together, the fear when he fought against Hook, the jealousy for Wendy, the hatred I hid, and the love I felt. As Wendy started to feel all the memories rushing in her, I start to not feel anything at all. I lied myself down on her side table and watched my wings fade its light.
I smiled as I saw Wendy smile. It was the same look I had when I thought of Peter. Wendy now had all my happy thoughts. At least, somehow, somebody would tell the story about the boy who wouldn’t grow up, and a fairy who loved him.
Michael believed longer than the other boys, though they jeered at him; so he was with Wendy when Peter came for her at the end of the first year. She flew away with Peter in the frock she had woven from leaves and berries in the Neverland, and her one fear was that he might notice how short it had become; but he never noticed, he had so much to say about himself.
She had looked forward to thrilling talks with him about old times, but new adventures had crowded the old ones from his mind.
“Who is Captain Hook?” he asked with interest when she spoke of the arch enemy.
“Don’t you remember,” she asked, amazed, “how you killed him and saved all our lives?”
“I forget them after I kill them,” he replied carelessly.
When she expressed a doubtful hope that Tinker Bell would be glad to see her he said, “Who is Tinker Bell?”
“O Peter,” she said, shocked; but even when she explained he could not remember.
“There are such a lot of them,” he said. “I expect she is no more.”
I expect he was right, for fairies don’t live long, but they are so little that a short time seems a good while to them.
Wendy was pained too to find that the past year was but as yesterday to Peter; it had seemed such a long year of waiting to her. But he was exactly as fascinating as ever, and they had a lovely spring cleaning in the little house on the tree tops.