Status: Active
Wish Upon a Star
Peter Pan
“So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Never Never Land.” – Peter Pan
Stumbling, shuffling, cursing, and sighing.
These sounds filled my London flat as I made my way home, locking up tight behind me. More than tipsy, far from drunk; I was pleased enough with tonight’s events. I was eighteen, in university, and enjoying life one hangover at a time. Tumbling up the stairs, I could only giggle softly at myself as I struggled, managing my way up. There would be a few marks in the morning from that. I took another tumble, falling into my room, landing on the run, letting out another stupid, silly giggle. I was quite positive if it had been the wooden floor I landed on I’d end up with more nasty bruises on my knees.
Managing myself up into a sitting position, I slipped my feet from my shoes and it was then I noticed how chilly it was. I got up and moseyed over to the balcony door, shutting it. I had a poor habit of leaving the doors open. My flat was a bit old and the air was still quite stale though I’ve been living here for quite some time now – a year. I kept the windows and doors open to air the place out.
Sighing to myself, I closed my eyes, basking in the moon’s eerie light. Running fingers through my hair, I turned around, eyes on the floor, attempting to avoid falling over anything as I made my way to my bed. Flopping down, I allowed myself a sigh, a ghost of a smile gracing my lips. Rolling over to my side, I yawned. Upon opening my eyes, I screamed – or tried to – as I came face to face with a boy lying on my bed staring at me with a grin! His hand had instantly covered my mouth, his eyes wide with panic; his grin became a frown.
“Shh! No, shh, Alice,” he whispered softly. I flailed my arms and kicked my legs wildly at him, but it was ineffective. “I won’t hurt you! Calm down, please.”
Maybe I was crazy, maybe it was the alcohol, but I ceased my struggles, reaching up and gently removing his hand from my face. I seemed to star into his eyes for the longest time. I wondered what color they were. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Why, I’m Peter Pan,” he said with such enthusiasm, a bright grin on his face. His voice sounded so genuine that I almost believed him.
“And I’m the Queen!” I giggled a little at myself. “Now who are you?”
He seemed quite frustrated now. “I’m Peter! Peter Pan!”
“Oh come on. I’m not stupid. He’s just a fairy tale character. If you don’t tell me who you are, I’ll call the police,” I said. I didn’t want to play this game. He frowned deeply, eyeing me. Standing up, he paced across my bed, kicking the sheets and pillows as he did so. “Stop that! Hey, stop!”
“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers, his entire demeanor changing. “I’ll fly!”
A very unladylike snort escaped my lips. “You’re delusional. I’m calling the loony bin.” Crossing the room I grasped my pink flower print rotary dial and flitted through the phone book looking up mental hospitals that were near.
“Watch!”
I briefly glanced up, a bemused smile on my face, before going back to dialing. A swirl of cold air hit my face, whipping my hair about. Gasping, I looked up, watching as ‘Peter Pan’ began running towards the balcony window.
“No! Peter!” I screamed, throwing my phone and running to stop him. I ran into the balcony bar, almost unable to stop myself from toppling over it. I covered my mouth as I cautiously leaned over the ledge to glance at the boy’s body. Shakily I looked over the ledge to see nothing. No blood, no mangled body, nothing but bushes, flower patches, and grass lining the sidewalk and gate.
“What are you looking for?” asked a voice from above me. Nervously I peered up. I nearly cried seeing the boy with vibrant hair floating above me, a curious grin on his face.
“Ghost!” I cried, falling onto my rear.
“Nope! Just Peter.” He landed on the balcony railing squatting down to look at me. “Ghosts are dead and I’m alive! To die would be an awfully big adventure.”
Closing my eyes tight, I breathed in and out. Opening my eyes, I blushed. Our noses were barely touching. My voice turned into a whisper, “What are you doing here Peter Pan?”
“You make me feel funny inside and I want to know why.”
“What?” I was stunned at the serious expression that overcame his face.
“I came back from Neverland to be with Wendy; to be with Jane. I came back so much that I started to grow up so I went back to Neverland to make it stop. I guess I stayed too long because when I came back, they were gone. That was when I saw you – ten nights ago. You were laughing and you looked happy so… I followed you. I fly by your window every night just to see you!”
It was then that I took the time to study his face. The way he moved and talked, the way his eyes shone, you’d think he was just child, but if you listened… If you listened carefully you would hear the faint gravelly sound his voice laced his words with. You would notice the bristles that decorated his chin. You would notice that his lithe body was actually muscular and you would ask yourself, “How does he move like that?”
“But why?”
He paused before laughing at me, standing straight. His hands rested on his waist, right foot tapping the floor lightly. Laughing he answered, “Like I said, you make me feel funny inside when I see you!” He touched his diaphragm, showing me where I made him feel funny. “And when you get undressed I get tingles all over!”
I choked on my own breath as he revealed this to me. That pervert! “All over?”
“All over.” He winked and I felt my face light up in flames. “So… why does it happen? Do you feel it too?”
“I… well…” How could I answer him? Clearly I knew what it was he was feeling because, despite the fact I’d been drinking, I felt it too, ever since his nose almost touched mine.
“You do! I can see it. I can see it in your eyes,” he replied, almost excited. His face moved so close to mine. “Why do I feel this way?”
I almost began to tremble under his green gaze. “You… don’t know?”
“Whatever it is… I just want to…” He lowered his face closer to mine and his green gaze softened, long lashed eyes fluttering to close. And that was when it happened.
I was in my apartment kissing Peter Pan, and boy, was it magic.
Stumbling, shuffling, cursing, and sighing.
These sounds filled my London flat as I made my way home, locking up tight behind me. More than tipsy, far from drunk; I was pleased enough with tonight’s events. I was eighteen, in university, and enjoying life one hangover at a time. Tumbling up the stairs, I could only giggle softly at myself as I struggled, managing my way up. There would be a few marks in the morning from that. I took another tumble, falling into my room, landing on the run, letting out another stupid, silly giggle. I was quite positive if it had been the wooden floor I landed on I’d end up with more nasty bruises on my knees.
Managing myself up into a sitting position, I slipped my feet from my shoes and it was then I noticed how chilly it was. I got up and moseyed over to the balcony door, shutting it. I had a poor habit of leaving the doors open. My flat was a bit old and the air was still quite stale though I’ve been living here for quite some time now – a year. I kept the windows and doors open to air the place out.
Sighing to myself, I closed my eyes, basking in the moon’s eerie light. Running fingers through my hair, I turned around, eyes on the floor, attempting to avoid falling over anything as I made my way to my bed. Flopping down, I allowed myself a sigh, a ghost of a smile gracing my lips. Rolling over to my side, I yawned. Upon opening my eyes, I screamed – or tried to – as I came face to face with a boy lying on my bed staring at me with a grin! His hand had instantly covered my mouth, his eyes wide with panic; his grin became a frown.
“Shh! No, shh, Alice,” he whispered softly. I flailed my arms and kicked my legs wildly at him, but it was ineffective. “I won’t hurt you! Calm down, please.”
Maybe I was crazy, maybe it was the alcohol, but I ceased my struggles, reaching up and gently removing his hand from my face. I seemed to star into his eyes for the longest time. I wondered what color they were. “Who are you? How do you know my name?”
“Why, I’m Peter Pan,” he said with such enthusiasm, a bright grin on his face. His voice sounded so genuine that I almost believed him.
“And I’m the Queen!” I giggled a little at myself. “Now who are you?”
He seemed quite frustrated now. “I’m Peter! Peter Pan!”
“Oh come on. I’m not stupid. He’s just a fairy tale character. If you don’t tell me who you are, I’ll call the police,” I said. I didn’t want to play this game. He frowned deeply, eyeing me. Standing up, he paced across my bed, kicking the sheets and pillows as he did so. “Stop that! Hey, stop!”
“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers, his entire demeanor changing. “I’ll fly!”
A very unladylike snort escaped my lips. “You’re delusional. I’m calling the loony bin.” Crossing the room I grasped my pink flower print rotary dial and flitted through the phone book looking up mental hospitals that were near.
“Watch!”
I briefly glanced up, a bemused smile on my face, before going back to dialing. A swirl of cold air hit my face, whipping my hair about. Gasping, I looked up, watching as ‘Peter Pan’ began running towards the balcony window.
“No! Peter!” I screamed, throwing my phone and running to stop him. I ran into the balcony bar, almost unable to stop myself from toppling over it. I covered my mouth as I cautiously leaned over the ledge to glance at the boy’s body. Shakily I looked over the ledge to see nothing. No blood, no mangled body, nothing but bushes, flower patches, and grass lining the sidewalk and gate.
“What are you looking for?” asked a voice from above me. Nervously I peered up. I nearly cried seeing the boy with vibrant hair floating above me, a curious grin on his face.
“Ghost!” I cried, falling onto my rear.
“Nope! Just Peter.” He landed on the balcony railing squatting down to look at me. “Ghosts are dead and I’m alive! To die would be an awfully big adventure.”
Closing my eyes tight, I breathed in and out. Opening my eyes, I blushed. Our noses were barely touching. My voice turned into a whisper, “What are you doing here Peter Pan?”
“You make me feel funny inside and I want to know why.”
“What?” I was stunned at the serious expression that overcame his face.
“I came back from Neverland to be with Wendy; to be with Jane. I came back so much that I started to grow up so I went back to Neverland to make it stop. I guess I stayed too long because when I came back, they were gone. That was when I saw you – ten nights ago. You were laughing and you looked happy so… I followed you. I fly by your window every night just to see you!”
It was then that I took the time to study his face. The way he moved and talked, the way his eyes shone, you’d think he was just child, but if you listened… If you listened carefully you would hear the faint gravelly sound his voice laced his words with. You would notice the bristles that decorated his chin. You would notice that his lithe body was actually muscular and you would ask yourself, “How does he move like that?”
“But why?”
He paused before laughing at me, standing straight. His hands rested on his waist, right foot tapping the floor lightly. Laughing he answered, “Like I said, you make me feel funny inside when I see you!” He touched his diaphragm, showing me where I made him feel funny. “And when you get undressed I get tingles all over!”
I choked on my own breath as he revealed this to me. That pervert! “All over?”
“All over.” He winked and I felt my face light up in flames. “So… why does it happen? Do you feel it too?”
“I… well…” How could I answer him? Clearly I knew what it was he was feeling because, despite the fact I’d been drinking, I felt it too, ever since his nose almost touched mine.
“You do! I can see it. I can see it in your eyes,” he replied, almost excited. His face moved so close to mine. “Why do I feel this way?”
I almost began to tremble under his green gaze. “You… don’t know?”
“Whatever it is… I just want to…” He lowered his face closer to mine and his green gaze softened, long lashed eyes fluttering to close. And that was when it happened.
I was in my apartment kissing Peter Pan, and boy, was it magic.
