Dissolve the Sky and Float Away

April 8th, 1964 - The Girl Who Never Grows Up

Mother told me I was dangerous, I don't want to be dangerous. She told me that I would have to stay in my room. Tears were streaming down her face, I never wanted to make her cry. I needed to be brave for her. I told her I would be okay.

I gave her smiles and stayed back as she dried her tears. I went upstairs into my bedroom and crawled into bed. Mother left me with a journal and some pencils. My father dropped some tea on the table beside the journal. They would come in and remind me to stay in bed. I could never respond, my throat felt as if I had swallowed shards of glass.

Soon enough I couldn't leave my bed anyways, my body was always hot and my legs wouldn't respond. In bed, I stayed, staring at the expanse of London. I watched the way the sun slowly crawled across the sky as my mother told me stories of a boy who could fly.

His name was Peter Pan, and I dreamed he would take me away. Sweep me off my feet and fly me through the sky to an island without sickness or disease.

He would come into my room through the window when the moon was at its highest peak.

I looked out the window to see a silhouette hovering outside the window, a glowing light fluttering around it. I wanted to get up, but the covers were like a prison, trapping my legs beneath them. He's here, and I cannot let him in.

I could feel despair wrapping its claws around my heart. Until the lock clicked and the window slid open. The cold air gust into the room, chilling my skin.

"I've come to grant your wish," he said to me grinning openly.

He extended his hand to me. The green sleeve of his tunic covering his palm. Relief washed over me as I slipped my fingers under his sleeve and fit my hand in his. The callouses on his hand rubbing against my fingers.

It feels so real.

His playful voice echoed through the room, "As you know, my name is Peter," he pointed at the tiny glowing girl on his shoulder, "this is Tinkerbell, my sidekick!"

I gave him a small smile as Tinkerbell sprinkled pixie dust over my body, "my name is Bridgette," I say quietly, surprised to hear my own voice.

There was no slicing or stabbing in my throat. I tried to move my legs. I stared in wonder as they shifted beneath me. My body didn't feel hot or sweaty.

I looked back up at Peter and he tilted his head towards the window, "Shall we be on our way then?" he asked, smiling brightly.

I nodded, laughing softly, "yes, we shall," I said, earning a boisterous laugh from Peter.

That's when I felt it, the air around me became stronger as if lifting me out of bed. Laughs echoed around the room as I gripped Peter's hand and we flew out the window.

We flew over London, watching the sleeping city beneath us. With only the dim lights illuminating the cobblestone streets, the stars could shine brighter than before. The people in the streets getting smaller and smaller as we soared through the sky, leaving London behind.

Soaring through the sky, I felt like I was in a dream. The sky was so close, I could reach up and touch the clouds.

"They are really soft," Peter flips over to face me, his back facing the Earth, "the clouds."

My eyes widened as I saw him grab a handful of cloud, holding it gently. He moved to fly beside me, handing me the little cloud. Cautiously I take it in both my hands, I can't help but gasp. He's right! I've never felt anything so soft before!

I ran my fingers over the cloud, caressing the soft curls. Suddenly, Peter grabs my wrist gently and pulls, causing me to let go of the cloud. My laughs seemed to be absorbed by the sky as I watched the cloud float away.