It's just after midnight on the now Sunday morning. I haven't slept a wink. How could I? I gave the worst news to Betsy. I had to have screwed something up, but I ran them twice! Something has to be wrong.
I've just been sitting in the corner between the window and my bed. The window reminds me of the illustrations of my favorite childhood book, Peter and Wendy. They both have the same wide panes, white billowy curtains and wide step. When I was little, I would wait up every night for Peter Pan to fly up to my window and take me away to Neverland.
Where I could be safe.
But, of course, he never showed. Because he's not real.
He was my first hallucination, though. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes, remembering that night.
I was nine. I had just gotten in trouble for not bringing my father his beer quick enough. I had been beaten and sent to my room without being able to finish my meager breakfast, and no lunch or dinner. I couldn't even leave to go to the bathroom. Luckily, I had an old-fashioned chamber pot in my room because I was sent there often.
I hadn't had anything to eat for almost two days, except the three bites of cereal that morning. I have always had trouble sleeping. So in my hunger, sleep deprivation, and imagination, I saw Peter Pan standing on my window sill. I was so excited, I flung open my window.
But he wasn't there.
I heard a laugh behind me.
I turned around slowly and saw him standing on my bed. He held out his hand.
“It's okay, Haylei. Come away to Neverland with me. I will protect you.” He smiled at me.
I reached up and took his hand, climbing onto my bed. He poured some fairy dust out of a pouch on his belt onto my head. He floated up and flew outside my window. He hovered there while I looked at him in awe.
“Come on, Haylei. Everything will be alright. I promise.” I swallowed. “The mermaids can't wait to meet you.” That did it for me. I had always wanted to meet a mermaid. In my mind's eye, I floated up off of my bed, laughing in sheer delight. I floated down to my window ledge and stood there looking out.
“Haylei,” Peter smiled warmly and held out his hand, but it was just out of reach.
“I'm scared, Peter,” I had whispered.
“It's okay. You believe in me, right? In Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust?” I nodded. “Then come on. Just a step off the ledge and you'll be flying away with me. You can do it. I believe in you.”
“You do?” That was the first time I had heard that.
“I do. You coming?”
“Yes.” And I stepped off the ledge.
Thunk!
Thunk!
Thunk!
Another dull Thunk! rattles the wall. I had dozed off. I shake my head and rub my eyes like I did when I was little. I stand up and stretch, looking out the window to the second star I see on the right.
I walk to the window and look down at the street below. It's dark, not many cars pass this way, especially at midnight. I stare at the black coloured ground.
After I had stepped off the ledge when I was nine, I fell from the third story window to the dark cobblestone sidewalk beside our house. I broke my left leg and fractured my upper left arm. My father came running out and called an ambulance. I was brought to the hospital and the bones were set. They didn't say anything about the other bruises all over my body. They just assumed they were from the fall.
