Never Ends Here

Chapter 1

It was many and many years ago when I met Peter Pan for the second time. I was a young woman at that time and went to college. I lived in a cozy student home just outside of London with four other students. I was the youngest, I was always the youngest.
I was just about to go to bed after a long day school. I snuggled up into my blankets and turned off my bedside lamp. The clock showed me it's 11.30 p.m. Way too early for a Friday night if you ask me. I chuckled and thought of the events of last week's Friday the weird situations in which I get involved on a regular night partying. I looked out of the window to find the curtains slightly open. The stars seemed to shine extra bright that night. I secretly wished upon a star. I do not exactly remember what I wished for, but it made me feel at ease and I fell into a dreamless sleep.

Not much later I woke up from a noise like a loud bump. It wasn't until I heard the noise for the second time that I sat up straight in bed. It sounded like someone was knocking on my window, which would be ridiculous, because my room was on the third floor. With my heart beating in my throat I pushed the curtain aside and sat on my knees on my bed to look through the window. Everything seemed normal so I opened the window just to be sure. I stuck my head outside and was immediately pushed back onto my bed. It was as if a huge bird flew through the window that pushed me over.
As I laid there trembling I turned my head to the side to find not a bird, but a man standing in the middle of my room. His back towards me, his feet a meter apart and his fists resting on his hips.
Too afraid to move I analyzed the intruder.
It was too dark to see his face, but from his silhouette I could make out that it was a man with a slim athletic figure. His clothes though, seemed rather odd just like his behavior. Any other burglar would have knocked me out by now and have stolen all my stuff.
But my intruder was quietly walking around my room picking up my belongings to examine them and put them back when he was done, totally ignoring me. I started to feel like I could actually survive this.
Careful and as quiet as possible I sat up straight without letting the stranger out of my sight. He still did not acknowledge me. Tired of waiting I cleared my throat in an impatient way.
The intruder looked around for a second.
"Oh, hey Sarah." He said and continued to occupy himself with my belongings. At that time all I could think about was how he could possibly know my name. More curious about this mystery person in my room I turned on my bedside lamp and finally got a closer look on him. The fact that he knew me was somehow reassuring.
The intruder was wearing green from head to toe. His clothes rather unusual like a medieval archer, but somehow more elvish like with leaves sticking out. On his belt he wore a short knife. His red hair looked brighter because of the green and almost matched the red feather on his hat. He looked around my age.
When I finally dared to speak I decided to get straight to the point.
"Who are you?" I asked with a trembling voice.
The intruder immediately dropped what he was doing and faced me.
"Who am I?" His voice was bright and cheerful, "Did I hear you right? Who am I?" he answered in a tone as if it were the strangest question he had ever heard. Then he burst out laughing. "Oh, Sarah. You always crack me up."
By this time I had pinched myself several times to make sure I was not dreaming.
"No, I don't understand. Have we met?"
The look on his face changed from light into darkness.
He let out a deep sigh and sat down next to me on my bed, looking at his hands.
"You don't remember me, do you?" His voice sounded so sad that I actually felt guilty.
"I am so sorry."
"It's okay. It is not your fault there just is no place for magic anymore. No one left who believes. Not even you..."

I was speechless. This poor lunatic, who sneaked into my room in the middle of the night dressed as some kind of fairytales character who apparently knows me, just started rambling about magic. He surely lost his marbles. I was not sure about what to do next. I thought about calling the police, but he seemed harmless and I actually felt sorry for him.
I carefully laid my hand on his shoulder. "Can you tell me your name? Maybe that helps me remember you." I did not really believe that I met this guy before, but I thought it would be better to play along.
He let out a deep sigh full of sadness and pain.
"It's Peter." He whispered. He looked at me and the moment our eyes locked, it hit me like lightning. His name echoed in my head while his eyes showed me sceneries that were once so familiar. Mermaids and pirates, fairies and red skins. Everything children dream about, I once dreamt about. It all started with the boy that never grew up.
"Peter Pan..." I whispered.
On hearing his name coming from my mouth Peter's eyes shot up in surprise and the corners of his mouth curled up into a soft smile, joy returned to his eyes. I examined him one more time to make sure my eyes did not deceive me, but the small boy indeed seemed to have turned into a young man. Immediately I began to worry.

Slowly I reached my hand and touched his cheek as a last confirmation that he was actually here.
"What happened to you?" I finally asked.
Peter shook his head. "I don't know. It started after you left last time, the growing I mean. I thought you might be able to help me. You saved me before after all."
"I did?" In my memory I searched for the answer of my own question, but it was hiding too well.
On hearing this Peter jumped to his feet.
"We really do need to refresh that memory of yours." Peter said again like his old cheerful self, "Come on, there is no time to lose. Off we go!"
"To where?" I asked overwhelmed by the events.
"To Neverland of course!"

Peter grabbed my hand and dragged me behind himtowards the window. Panic hit me and I released myself from his grip.
"What is wrong?" Peter asked in a worried tone. Speechless I shook my head. Itwas all happening too fast. I crossed my arms before my chest and overthoughteverything that had just happened.
"I don't know if I can do this." I said more to myself than to Peter.
"What do you mean?" As Peter took one step in my direction, I took onebackwards as a reflex.
"This cannot be real. It is like a dream." I examined my feet as I said thisavoiding Peters eyes. He walked towardsme until he was standing right in front of me. He grabbed my chin and forced meto look at him.
"Yes," he says cheerful as always, "maybe it is a dream, but does that meanthat it is not real?"
I frowned, thinking about what he just said.
"You know," Peter continued in a fake seductive tone, "maybe I'm your dreamcoming true." He struck a pose, and looked at me with a confident grin. He gaveme a wink and I burst out laughing.
"Now that's what I like to hear!" he shouted playful, "Come with me, Sarah!You've got nothing to lose!"
I looked at Peter one more time and I knew that he was right: He was my dreamcoming true. I quickly threw on some clothes and before I knew it we werestanding in my window frame.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
I nodded slowly. Peter reached into a pouch on his belt and threw a handful ofsparkly dust all over me. I frowned, but it did not take me long to rememberand the word left my lips before I knew it: "Pixie dust."
Peter nodded with a smile and grabbed my hand.
"Now," he said, "Just think..."
I finished his sentence: "happy thoughts." I looked at Peter and thought thatit would be impossible to not have happy thoughts with him around.
"Let's go." I said and with Peters hand in mine we rose into the night sky.