I Love Peter Pan

It started one starry night, as the wind rustled through my clean, sweet smelling hair, from the open balcony doors. I hoped with all the hope in my heart that John and Michael didn't wake up. After all, Father forbid us to have the doors open. The problem was, I just couldn't resist the release as the cool, twilight air enveloped our room, in dusky Kensington. Oh, how I craved adventure. Freedom. Excitement. It is very surprising to many, including my brothers, and probably you as well, Reader, but sometimes, when Mother read us our bedtime stories, I felt a presence around me. It was as if the air was listening intently – anxious to find out what happens next in Cinderella. Its sounds silly, but I know its true. Sometimes, I even thought I could see a greenish figure, moving by the window frame, but even I don't believe that. I must have been dreaming.