Fractured Fairytale | David Doherty-Jebb
Ever since Wendy Darling decided to return to her crummy life and leave Neverland, Peter Pan was bored. Instead of taking the time to analyse his tendency to behave as a pre-adolescent child-snatcher, he went flying off back to the outside world to search for fun.
His trusty sidekick Tinkerbell tagged along. However, she was beginning to have concerns about their toxic interdependent relationship and her own role as an enabler of his sociopathic actions.
Flying over London, Peter noticed his name was written on a plaque outside a hospital.
“Great Ormond Street,” he read. “Someone has finally understood my greatness.”
Tink chimed her response.
“Yes,” said Peter. “It is about time.”
That’s not what I said, fumed Tink. I was pointing out how conceited you are, but you never listen.
Peter led her into the hospital which was lowly lit and silent except for some strangely dressed grown-ups whispering to one another.
In one room, a girl slept alone. Peter and Tinkerbell sneaked in. A small chart said her name was “Aurora”.
“Oh, Peter,” said Tink, “she’s under a spell. Kiss her and she’ll wake up.”
“Kiss a girl?” Peter made a disgusted face,
Tink rolled her tiny eyes then a place a miniature kiss on the girl’s forehead.
“What’s happening?” stammered the girl, Aurora, as her eyes fluttered open. “And who are you?”
“I’m Peter Pan.”
“The Peter Pan?”
Peter puffed up his chest. “So you’ve heard of me?”
“Yeah,” said Aurora. “I’ve read the book. You’re not gonna get all possessive are you? Make me go to Neverland and then not let me leave?”
Peter’s face went red and angry. “What do you…? Neverland is the greatest!”
Tinkerbell couldn’t let this go on.
“Would you at least like to go for a fly around London?” she asked.
“Oh yes please!” said Aurora.
Tink fluttered her wings over the girl, sprinkling her with pixie dust.
Aurora gasped as she floated out of the bed,
“Where would you like to go?” asked Tinkerbell.
Aurora clapped her hands and smiled. “Oh! Buckingham Palace.”
So off they flew, past Big Ben, over St James’s Park, and eventually arriving at Buckingham Palace.
“How wonderful!” cried Aurora.
“Neverland is much better,” insisted Peter. “Let me take you there. Come on!”
“It’s fine,” said the girl. “I don’t really want to go. Thanks all the same.”
Peter crossed his arms. “If you don’t come with me, I’ll leave you here all alone.”
“Peter, you’re a plonker,” said Tink. “And do you know? You’ve got lice. And you’ve given it to all the Lost Boys. You tried to blame the poor Twins, but I know it was you.”
Peter made an angry face and pointed at Tink. “Don’t annoy me, you stupid, little pixie, or I’ll…”
Tinkerbell did a little figure-of-eight flight around him and he began sinking to the ground.
“What’s…? What’s happening?” he demanded.
“I took away your pixie dust,” explained Tinkerbell. “Good luck flying without that.”
Aurora giggled as an incredulous, not to mention furious, Peter drifted down and landed in the grounds of Buckingham Palace, where five royal security guards body-slammed him into the tarmac.
“Oh, Peter,” said Tink. “Why were you so obsessed with stealing children from London?”
“Maybe he just wanted to know what it was like to be a normal child?” suggested Aurora.
“Well, he’ll find out just that,” replied the pixie. “’Curiosity killed the cat’. Or in his case, pissing off your pixie friend gets you landed in juvenile detention for breaking and entering. Come on. Do you wanna fly over the London Eye and pee on people’s heads?”