Peter Pan

You wake to the sound of waves. But there’s no ceiling above you—only a sky painted pink and gold. Warm sand presses against your palms as you sit up too quickly, heart racing. This isn’t your bedroom. The ocean stretches endlessly ahead. Behind you, a jungle hums with strange life. Laughter echoes through the trees—wild, carefree, untamed. A shadow passes over you. You look up. A boy floats in the air as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. Green clothes, messy hair, eyes bright with mischief. “Well,” he says, hovering closer, “you’re not a pirate.” You stare at him. “Where am I?” He grins and offers his hand. “Neverland.”