Shock.
I can't talk. I can't move. All I can do is stare up at this boy. I have waited for this moment for years. the stories I were told when I was younger were all true. He looks just as mother described him. My eyes are open wide and I wait for him to do something. I thought he was more playful than this. In the stories I was told, he flew around the room and laughed and played with his fairy friend Tinkerbell. They said nothing about him grabbing them and pushing them into their rooms, standing over them like he was going to kill them… Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm special. Maybe he doesn't like me. Maybe I'm the girl that Peter Pan doesn't want. He probably thinks I'm too old. Well it's his fault for not coming sooner. He probably has other families to see. I bet he takes all the children to Neverland… But mother and granny both said he never did that. They said that we were just a special family.
Gasp.
He has a sharp intake of breath and I think he still could hurt me. He doesn't. He tilts his head to one side and I think he doesn't know if I'm the right person. Maybe I'm not. He probably wanted mother to go again or something. He must understand that we all grow up here in this world. I wish I wasn't here though. I wish he would just hold out his hand and take me away to Neverland forever. No growing up: That would be the best thing. I just want him to do something though, instead of just staring at me like this.
Hello.
The words come out of my mouth unbidden, and I feel like I want to button my lips together and never speak again. I sink slowly into the corner, wishing I had never opened my mouth. My face starts getting hotter and I feel my cheeks flushing. He was supposed to speak, not me! I was supposed to sit in the corner and listen to him telling me about Neverland and inviting me there and then all I would reply is 'Of course' and off we'd fly to the land where you never grow up… But no. Instead I was stupid and opened my big fat mouth to say hello. I mean 'hello' isn't exactly the best of things to say either. I could have said something witty or silly or funny or scary or… That's not the point anyway. The point is that I spoke and I wasn't supposed to, because now Peter Pan is looking at me like I'm mad. He knew he was supposed to speak first, and I knew it too, so why didn't my voice listen to that advice and SHUT UP!?
A hand.
He holds a single hand out for me. I want to take it. I want to leave it. I want to get up myself. I want him to help me. I want to sink away and hide. I want to go wherever he goes. I want everything but all I can do is slowly raise my hand and place it in his. No sooner are my fingers touching the palm of his hand, he closes his fist tight, squeezing my hand and yanking me up into the air. I see a sparkling dust falling all over me as he pulls me up: Tinkerbell! Peter Pan throws me into the air and lets go, so I shoot up and nearly hit my ceiling. I come crashing down towards my floor but I feel something pulling my nightgown. It's Tinkerbell and she's trying to stop me falling! I remember what my family have told me: I shut my eyes tight as I come falling down and take a breath in. 'I can fly. I can stop my fall' I repeat to myself in my head. It seems like hours before I finally open my eyes and realise that my nose is inches away from the floor and I've been hovering like this for ages. I raise my head and Peter is nose-to-nose with me, grinning. This is it. He's here. I am finally that girl.
The girl that Peter Pan remembered.