Take Me With You


She sat there on her balcony late at night, watching the city lights and rushing cars. Everything was still so alive. Everyone was still so awake. She wished she were like the city, big and bright and loud and full of attitude. She felt herself growing. Her legs grew longer. Her features grew more defined. She feared she’d grow too big, too wide, too dull, too serious, too boring. She felt it coming, adulthood. She’d soon graduate high school and had much to think about the future. She doesn’t want to think of the future. She doesn’t want to dwell in the past. She wants to feel every moment. She wants every moment to last forever. She thought of all the stories she’d heard of a boy who’d never grow. She thought of every night he wouldn’t come. He’s real. She knew he was because she felt him in her. She’d never seen him but in her head they’d met a million times before. Her head was a Neverland of her own.

He likes stories; it struck her all so suddenly. She entered her bedroom to pick a book from the hundreds piled around at every spot and corner. Her eyes landed on the one lying right under her bedside table. Yes, this one was her favorite; this one was filled with mystique, filled with fantasy, filled with wonder. He’d like this one; she thought to herself and headed back to her balcony with the book in one hand a flashlight in the other. She sat there for hours, reading chapter after chapter out loud to what seemed to be herself, and if others were to catch her in this act, they’d quite possibly think her mad. But she was reading for the boy who never grew, the boy who loved stories and was sure to come if he’d heard.


He’d heard. He heard the fairies speaking. They were speaking of a girl. They were speaking of a girl who didn’t want to grow, a girl who was reading stories. He loved stories and grew more and more curious. He flew a long way to find this girl who read stories and finally found her balcony. He was swift and stealthy and hid where she couldn’t see him. He sat there and listened and listened for what seemed to be forever, and then suddenly the girl stopped mid-sentence. What if this Pan boy wasn’t coming? The boy was so taken aback from the sudden silence that he’d moved backward and ruffled a branch of leaves. He stopped in his tracks, she heard the noise and grew hopeful. Her eyes widened with electrified excitement. “Peter,” she whispered so silently that it looked as though only her lips were moving. He heard though, his ears were like the ears of a falcon, sharp; they picked up the tiniest noises. He could hear ants as they lifted their specks of food if he tried. It was part of his cunningness. This made him even more curious she knew his name!

He glided towards her making himself visible. He floated right in front of the sill on which she was leaning. She gasped but he was too busy examining her face. “You know me?” he’d finally spoken.

“I’ve heard so much of you,” she replied, “you’re Peter Pan, the boy who can fly, the boy who’ll never grow.” Peter seemed pleased by her reply as he smirked approvingly. “My name is –“

“I heard the fairies speak of you,” he flew up and landed on the balcony beside her, “they heard you reading stories.”

“I love stories,” she felt her heart beating louder, “I knew you did too.” She didn’t know what else to say. Fairies! Fairies heard her and spoke of her! She wanted desperately to go with him to Neverland. Should I ask?

“I do, and so do the Lost Boys!” he exclaimed. Peter saw the confusion in her eyes, “you haven’t heard of the Lost Boys?” he scratched his head. “They’re my gang!” he explained. “Boys who fell out of their prams as babies and were quickly swept off to the Neverlands!”

“How exciting,” she swooned. “Am I to go to the Neverlands too?” Peter saw the eagerness in her eyes. “I do not wish to grow.”

“Growing is horrid.” Peter’s face turned grim. “If you wish to go with me you must first learn to fly.”


They glided through the dark diamond incrusted sky as the stars twinkled down on them and the clouds swooshed beside them. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. She felt light and free and wild. The world looked so tiny but so vast from where she was. The buildings went on forever. She saw city after city until finally Peter tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to a gleaming star above. “There!” he exclaimed. Her whole body tingled; she’d waited so long for this moment.

I’m here. Her thought echoed in her head and she knew she was finally where she was meant to be. She felt like she was finally so close to what was meant to be her actual home. This had been all she’d dreamt of and all she’d wanted, the home of dreams and fantasy.
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Enjoy this little one shot I've had laying on my desktop for months now. Peter Pan is one of the loves of my life and growing up was one of my biggest fears. I'm not really scared of it anymore because I've realized that you can act as immature as you want no matter what age you are! Please comment telling me what you think, I'd really appreciate it :*