"Come away with me."
She pried open her heavy eyes as she heard the unmistakable voice of a boy. Although she couldn't see a clock, she knew it was the middle of the night. The girl glanced over at her mother who was fast asleep in a rocking chair. She did that most nights - stayed with the girl until she found sleep. It seems that the mother had been too tired to leave, though.
The girl was almost sure that the voice had been an illusion. It might have been part of a dream, although she didn't remember entirely what it was about. She convinced herself of this anyway and prepared to roll over.
That is, until she saw the shadow next to the open window.
To her surprise, confusion overrided any fear she had. The window was almost never open, and if it was, it would only be so during the day. She also had no memories of anyone opening it while she was awake. Her mother certainly wouldn't have done so.
A breeze flowed into the room, rustling the curtains gently and causing the girl to shiver. It was summer, but the nights were still a bit chilly. The open window certainly wasn't an illusion, but what of the shadow?
"Don't be afraid..." said the same voice as before. She wasn't afraid, though a small part of her knew that she should be.
She knew that she should have called for her mother to wake up when she saw the scruffy-looking boy clad in green walking towards her from the window. She should have gotten up when he came to her bedside. She should have done these things.
But she didn't.
There was something calming about his green eyes and the way he walked. His grin showed no malice; it was the grin of someone who was viewing a friend. The girl couldn't help but smile, as well. She knew exactly who he was. She was young, after all, and any child would know his identity upon laying eyes on him.
"Peter Pan," she said, her smile growing wider as he crossed his arms and nodded proudly. "I hoped you were real."
A look of joy crossed his face as he held a finger against his mouth. "Believing is a powerful thing," he whispered.
She giggled silently. Any adult would be panicing at this point or causing a scene, but there is something about the trust of a child that crushes fear. And there was something about Peter that couldn't be placed, something very calming.
"So, what are you doing here?" she asked once her giggles subsided.
He kneeled by her bed, coming face-to-face with the girl. "It's your turn to come to Neverland with me."
"My turn?" she questioned.
"Yeah. There are a lot of kids that come to Neverland. After all, it's made for them. But this is your time to come."
The girl was extremely excited by this news, and her mind was filled with all the fun things she heard about in the stories. The adventures, the mermaids, the absence of rules...
But her eyes floated to her mother, wrapped in a blanket on the wooden chair. She was clearly cold from the infiltrating breeze, and the dried tears under her eyes were quite obvious.
"What about mommy?" the girl asked, feeling a pang of guilt as she observed her sleeping form.
"I promise you'll see her again," he said before raising his right hand. "Lost boys' honor."
Peter then stood and offered her the same hand. "Besides, think of how much fun it'll be to tell her about all the adventures you had! She'll love hearing about them."
This seemed to convince the girl, and she grasped his hand with a smile.
She no longer felt the tug of the IV that was stuck in her arm or the nasal cannula, and the rest of the cords stuck to her body seemed to melt away. It was a strange sensation for her, but she didn't seem to care all that much. The joy of leaving that hospital room overpowered all other feelings. She was ready for her time in Neverland.
Her body was pronounced dead about a minute later.