Pandora’s pov

“Flight 307 is ready to board.”, I heard the announcer say over the speakers at the airport. I was with my mom, dad, my twin sister, my two younger brothers, and my younger sister.

We were moving to London for a year for my dad’s work. My dad was a manager at the DFW airport for TSA (Transportation Security Administration). You probably are wondering why we are going to London.

Well, my dad is a jack-of-all-trades. He has a history degree, but he can fix plumbing problems, has built gymnastics equipment for me, has fixed our vehicles, works with our resale business, invests in the stock market and day-trading, and the reason why we are moving to London is that my dad is working on an algorithm that can predict certain things that go on in an airport.

Which requires math, ugh math sucks, but my dad is a genius, or at least in my opinion. He has had job offers from Canada, Germany, Switzerland, Japan, China, and England. My dad chose England because it paid the most, and we would only have to live there for a year.

The people that my dad would be working for paid for our tickets, which were first class! I have never flown in first class before! We would always be third-class whenever we would fly, which wasn’t very often.

And they also paid for a large house that was close to where my dad would be working. I couldn’t wait to see it!

“Come on, kids.”, my dad, Steven, told us. All of my siblings were bouncing around, hyper and super excited. I was ecstatic as well even though I’m 14. My twin sister is Charity, who is also 14 but is younger by 32 minutes. My younger siblings are Jordan, who is 10, Byron, who is 8, and Willow, who is 4.

We all picked up our carry-on bags and walked to the counter and handed the man our tickets. “Enjoy your flight.”, the man said after handing back our tickets.

“Pandora! Wouldn’t it be marvelous if we move into the Darling house! Wouldn’t that be wonderful!”, Byron asked in an attempt at a British accent.

“Yes, it would be if the Darling house actually existed.”, I replied, ruffling his blond hair.

“What if the Darling house is real?”, My mom, Faith, replied with suspense as we walked down the ramp to the huge airplane.

“Wouldn’t that just be marvelous!”, Charity said with a very good British accent.

“I’m jealous.”, I said with feigned disdain.

“Then Petah Pan and Nevurwand must be weal too! Wight, Mommy?”, little Willow asked in her perfectly adorable voice, her brown curls framing her heart-shaped face.

“Of course, Willow.” Mommy replied and swung Willow up and placed her on her hip. We walked onto the plane and handed the flight attendant our first-class tickets. She led us to some spiral stairs that must lead up to the first-class seats.

We walked up one-by-one and my jaw dropped when I saw what was inside. There were fewer seats that had much more space. The seats were the kind that could transform into a bed.

“Wow!” Jordan exclaimed and ran to a window seat. “I call dibs on this seat!”.

“Awesome!” Byron gazed at the elegance in awe. We all sat down and got comfortable.

In about 20 minutes, we took off! I bent down and opened up my Victoria’s Secret PINK duffle bag, and I pulled out my Peter Pan book by J. M. Barrie. Even though I’m 14, this book is my childhood. I remember when I was little, I dreamed about flying away to Neverland, fighting pirates, dancing around a huge bonfire during the Indian pow wows, and Tinkerbell and pixie dust.

I opened the large book and I sniffed the worn pages. For some reason, I love the smell of book pages. I don’t know why though. I started reading and I was once again drawn into a timeless fairytale that never grows old.

I used to believe in this stuff, but of course I don’t now. I didn’t grow up, I can always stay a child at heart. My dad does because he does stupid shit all the time, but of course, all boys do that.

There will always come a time when you learn more things and you find out that fairytales don’t exist.

I still play the Peter Pan and Neverland game with my younger siblings. We would act out what happened in the book. My best friend Dimahndi (pronounced Die-mun-di) would be Tiger Lily, my younger siblings would always insist on me being Wendy because of my blond hair, Jordan would be John, Byron would be Michael, and once Willow came along, she became Tinkerbell. Charity would always play Peter Pan.

And I would also play Hook, which I found fun still. I love playing with my siblings, they are my best friends for life.

I remember when I watched Peter Pan for the first time, the real-life one, I developed a huge crush on Peter Pan.

I mean, who wouldn’t? He is what you would call a packaged deal. He’s cocky, brave, has blond hair, piercing green eyes, adventurous, fearless, kind, charming, and most of all, he can fly.

I guarantee that almost every single girl who has watched Peter Pan has had a crush on him at some point and time.

But of course, you come out of that stage and come into reality. I continued to read the book until I grew tired. I closed the book and put it in my lap. I pulled out the blanket that I had packed in my bag.

I got out my memory foam neck pillow, put it around my neck, transformed the seat into a bed, put in my wireless earbuds, played my box fan sleep sound, and drifted off to sleep.

*****

I was shaken awake when my mom gently rocked my shoulder, “Panda Bear, we’re here.”, she coaxed softly.

I groaned, “Five more minutes, Mommy. Just five more minutes.”, I said half-asleep.

I felt her tenderly pull some of my soft, blond hair out of my face and tuck it behind my ear. She kissed my temple softly before telling me again, “We’re in London.”.

I sat up quickly and rubbed my eyes. I pushed up the window cover and I gasped. I heard Willow ask me, “Can I see, pwease Panda!”, she begged.

“Come here, you little cutie pie!”, I grabbed her and she squealed in delight. I set her on my lap and she bounced up and down as she looked out.

Willow pressed her face against the glass and she asked me, “Maybe we wull see Petah Pan flying! Then I could fwy away to Nevuhwand!”.

Mommy responded sharply, “Certainly not!.”.

We couldn’t see much, but I couldn’t wait to tour London! I was rushing to get out of the plane, just like my siblings were doing. It felt like forever until we were in a taxi.

Byron asked the driver, “Excuse me sir, but why is your steering wheel on the wrong side?”.

The man chuckled, “You must be from America. Well, the reason why it’s on this side is quite simple- people here drive on a different side than you do.”.

“Oh, that’s cool.”, Byron replied.

“Yes, yes it is.”.

“Wow. Look, there’s Big Ben!”, I exclaimed and point at the giant clock tower.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Cool!”, Jordan and Byron said at the same time.

“Jinx!”, they said at the same time.

“Jinx again!”.

“Jinx galaxy!”, Byron said.

“Aww man!”, Jordan complained. “No fair!”.

“You guys are so immature.”, Charity said, rolling her eyes.

My dad called the head of security for England’s transportation security administration. I looked out the window and I decided to take some pictures and send them to my friends. I took the pictures and once I finished, I did a group send, so that I could get it done quicker.

My phone was soon blowing up with texts saying, “Awesome!”, “ur so lucky”, “I wish I was there.”, “I miss u! Please call us on Zoom!”, and a bunch of other texts. Charity took some pictures as well and sent them to her friends.

Soon the driver pulled to the curb and I leaned over Jordan and Byron and I saw a three-story house that was connected to a bunch of other houses. It looked really old, and I mean like really old. We all filed out and grabbed our suitcases and other bags.

There was going to be a mover coming over tomorrow with the rest of our stuff. We could only bring so much, so we had the rest of our belongings flown overseas on a shipping plane.

“Well, this is it.”, my mom said. “It probably has an old people smell to it.”, my mom said while wrinkling her nose.

“I love old houses. I love the history behind them. And I never smell anything.”, I said to my mom, kind of arguing but inadvertently.

“You have said literally a million times before.”, my mom said dryly.

“Exactly.”, Charity agreed in a snobbish tone.

“Shut up.”, I snapped back at Charity. She stuck her tongue out at me and blew a raspberry.

“The owners of this house are supposed to be here to sign the papers.”, my dad said, looking at his phone. He walked up to the front door and knocked. He took a step back as the door opened and I saw a pretty blond-haired woman standing in the doorway with a little girl not much older than seven.

The little girl tugged on her mom’s pants and begged, “But Mum! What if Peter comes for spring cleaning? I won’t be there!”, the girl was on the verge of tears and I pitied her. I find little kids absolutely irresistible; I adore little kids.

The woman smiled sheepishly at us and bent over to the girl, “There, there. Maybe Peter will forget this year, so you don’t have to worry.”.

The little girl saw us for the first time and she skipped over to us gaily. She curtsied, which I was startled by, but Charity and I curtsied as well. Jordan and Byron bowed, but Willow was asleep in Mommy’s arms, so she didn’t do anything.

I smiled and bent down, “What’s your name, sweetie?”.

The girl put her hands behind her back and rolled back on her heels, “My name is Nicole Bernadette Maricela Darling.”, she replied with pure satisfaction written all over her face.

“Wow, that’s a mouthful.”, Jordan said dryly. I elbowed him in the ribs, “Hey!”, Jordan complained.

“Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”, I said through my teeth.

Nicole didn’t seem to notice anything and kept on talking, “Since you guys are going to be living here for a while, if Peter Pan comes, just tell him that I will be gone for a while.”.

“Wait a minute, your last name is Darling? As in Wendy Darling?”, I asked skeptically.

The little girl nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, she is my great-grandmother, and my mum’s name is Margaret Rosalyn Grace Darling.”.

“What a coincidence.”, I said, the very fact that we were moving to London, I had just read the Peter Pan book, my brother had mentioned the possibility of moving into the Darling house, and there were these two people whose last name is Darling, and her great-grandmother’s name was Wendy Darling. But I just shrugged it off as a strange coincidence.

Margaret handed the rest of the paperwork back to Daddy before picking up Nicole and walking to her car. She put Nicole in the backseat and got in the driver’s seat. She turned on the ignition and drove away. I ran inside and looked around. Everything had an old vibe about it. I marched up the stairs to the third floor. I opened the very first door down the hallway and I looked inside at the enormous room.

Charity came running in behind me, panting. Her eyes widened as she looked around the room. “Wow, this place is dope!”.

“I’ll say.”, I agreed. “Is this the master bedroom, Mommy?! Cause this room is huge!”, I yelled.

My mom came into the room and looked around, “No, it’s not. But this house is over 100 years old. This room must’ve been a nursery.”, my mom explained.

“Oh, that makes sense.”.

“This can be your room if you guys like.”, Mommy told me.

I dropped my stuff and spun around. I lept into Mommy’s arms and clasped my arms around her neck, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”, we both exclaimed at the same time.

My mom laughed and gave me a kiss on the forehead. “You’re very welcome, Panda Bear.”, I rolled my eyes playfully at the nickname I got when I was a kid. I wasn’t embarrassed by it but it did get kind of annoying on occasion.

I withdrew from her embrace and turned to Charity. We both burst into vivacious laughter and jumped up and down in a circle holding hands. Mommy left the room because she heard Daddy call her name.

When we stopped, we saw Jordan and Byron staring at us with a look of disgust on their faces. Jordan says, “Girls are so weird.”.

“You got that right.”, Byron agreed and they both walked away, mumbling about girls.

“Well, you live with three of them, so get used to it!”, I snapped back.

“Whatever!”, they called back.

We started to unpack our stuff. We hung up our clothes and put away our shoes. We got out our toiletries, I put my books on the bookshelf that was left in the house. I paused when I saw a small, leather pouch that looked very worn from handling.

I slowly picked it up and inspected it carefully. It was closed by a simple leather string. I unwound it and peeked inside. I opened it up wider and gazed in awe at the pretty gold glitter-like substance. I dipped my finger inside and took a closer look at it. I didn’t find anything else interesting, so I just put it inside of a nightstand drawer.

We also went downstairs and grabbed a bedding set that we had packed in one of our suitcases.

We both made our beds quickly, threw pillows on, and threw ourselves onto the beds. “Damn, this bed is comfy.”, I sighed and looked towards the window. I tilted my head and frowned. It was a stained glass window, and it looked like it could open.

I walked towards it and saw a little switch that must keep the window closed. I flipped it and pushed the window up. I leaned out and took a deep breath of the city air. I’m a city girl through and through. Even though my mom grew up on a farm in a small town, and most of my family on my mom’s side lives in rural Tennessee. I do love the country, the small-town feel, the fresh air, the peacefulness, but I absolutely hate bugs. The only bug that I like is butterflies. Yes, even ladybugs repulse me. 

I felt a light tap on my shoulder and I turned. Charity had a grin on her face and I knew exactly what she was thinking about. Charity lifted up her Bluetooth speaker and showed me her phone. She showed me our favorite song. It was from Disney’s Liv & Maddie theme song, ‘Better In Stereo’.

“I knew you were going to ask that, and of course I want to!”, I exclaimed. Charity and I would sing to it all the time. We danced to it and it never got old. The song fits us like a new pair of shoes.

Charity sets the speaker and phone down and then plays the soundtrack. She walks up to me and starts singing, “I’m up with the sunshine.”.

“Let’s go.”, I sing.

“I lace up my high tops.”.

“Oh, no.”, I sing with a huge smile on my face.

“Slam dunk, ready or not. Show me what you got. I’m in the spotlight.”, Charity sang.

“Holler.”, I said at the same time.

“I dare you to come one and follow. You dance to your own beat. I’ll sing the melody.”, She sang while doing a pirouette. “When you say yeah, I say no. When you say stop, all I wanna do is go, go, go!”.

Then we sang the chorus together, “You-you, the better half of me-me. The half I’ll never be-e. The half that drives me cra-a-a-azy. You-you, the better half of me-me. The half I’ll always nee-ed. But we both know, we’re better in stereo. Be-be-better in stereo. Oh-oh-oh. Be-be-better in stereo. Oh-oh-oh.”.

Then it was my turn to sing the bridge of the song, “And when we’re together.”.

“Oh, yeah.”, Charity sang.

“A sweet harmony, oh so rare. If we could just agree, we could go major league. When you say yeah, I say no. When you stop, all I wanna do is go go go!”.

Then we sang the next chorus together, “You-you, the better half of me-me. The half I’ll never be-e. The half that drives me cra-a-a-azy. You-you, the better half of me-me. The half I’ll always nee-ed. But we both know, we’re better in stereo. Be-be-better in stereo. Oh-oh-oh. Be-be-better in stereo. Oh-oh-oh.”.

“You say it’s wrong, I say it’s right.”, Charity sang.

“You say it’s black, I say it’s white.”, I sang in return.

“You take a left, and I take right.”.

“But at the end of the day, we both know. We’re better. Oh, yeah!”, then we jumped into the chorus.

“You-you, the better half of me-me. The half I’ll never be-e. The half that drives me cra-a-a-azy. Oh, it drives me sooooo! You-you, the better half of me-me. The half I’ll always nee-ed. Cause we both know, we’re better in stereo. Better in stereo. Better in stereo. Better in stereo. Better in stereo.”. We both fell into a fit of giggles and rolled over on the floor. When we were finished we both sat up and looked out the window

I looked at the already setting sun, and I decided to fill myself in on British slang words. Charity flopped onto her bed on the other side of the room and put in her wireless earbuds. She started nodding her head to an unknown beat.

I found out the ‘bloody’, is the British way of saying ‘fuck’. Instead of saying ‘asshole or ass’, they say ‘arsehole or arse’.

“Nincompoop’ basically means that someone is a dumbass. ‘All to pot’ means that you are failing miserably.

‘Blimey’ is used to express surprise. ‘Bollocks’ means… nope, not gonna say it, just Google it. A really cool one is ‘car park’, which is a parking lot, but the British call it a car park. Funny, right?

I learned some more before turning off my phone, getting ready for bed, and finally slipping under the covers and falling asleep.

But then, I didn’t know that Charity and I’s lives would be changed forever that night…