It didn’t matter whether the night was warm with a summer breeze or crisp from winters touch, she would never allow her window to be closed. Her parents never knew of her secret but she would sneak out of bed each night and sit by her window looking out at the skies wonder, in hope that something special would happen. The little girl knew that stories were not real, but still she couldn’t help but believe that the tale of Peter Pan could exist and that a young boy would find her open window and take her away to Never Land.
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She looked out her window and remembered a simpler time when it was easy to believe in magic, a time where Peter Pan and fairytales were thoughts of possibilities, not fiction. It was getting harder for her to have faith in something just to believe it was real. When did it get so hard to think everything will be alright in the end? She sat down onto her bed still staring out the window.
“Please come, come now. Please find me. I don’t want to go out there and face the world, I don’t want grow up.” – Tears began to fall down her cheeks. “I don’t want to forget how to believe, how to believe in true love, in finding the rest of your soul, how to believe in hope and happy endings, how to believe in the magic of all things.”
She continued crying but fell silent after her plea for Peter to come steal her away from reality. The thought of having to enter the harsh world of reality was a greater threat than she ever imagined.
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