The boy that never grew up...

Chapter 4

Wendy's P.O.V

I had such a strange dream. At least I think it was a dream. It would be impossible for peter to come to me. I glanced at my brothers- they were fast asleep. I sighed, I couldn't tell if it was real or not. Did that make me mad?

I heard the door opening and closing. Mother was home. But wait, did that sound like who I thought it was? It could not be him. I despised his view of my stories. Peter Pan is real. I just know. I hear the whispers of my parents and my aunts downstairs. I am sure I can hear him. Why did he have to be here? It ruined my dream. My dream about peter.

The stairs creek slowly and I know I must fake sleep, otherwise I will have to talk to him. I would much rather talk to peter- even if it was only, what I feel to be, a dream.

I close my eyes just as I see the shadow of him appearing along the hallway just outside my door. I hope he thinks I'm sleeping. He'll leave me alone. I feel his prescience above me and I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter and think of peter. The peter that I know exists. No matter what people say, peter was real. Peter was mine.

I must have fallen asleep again. For I woke up with my mother opening the curtains.

"Rise and shine my darlings."

Sigh my mother sounded so caring and motherly.

"Mmh"

John was terrible in the mornings. More so on school days when we have to get up earlier than at weekends. Funnily enough, although I had fell asleep thinking about peter, I had no such a dream as before. It still confused me. I wished he could come in and save me. Not only from him, but from myself.