The bombarding gust of wind entranced him, pulling him closer to the silent corner I was in. He clasped a knife in his balled fist, similar to the one that I had pictured in the dream. A stone cracked under my obese legs. An ominous light seeped in through the crack, illuminating my trembling naked body. He jerked his head back; his eyes met mine. My lungs swallowed quick dollops of oxygen. I should have listened to her stupid stories. Now Peter Pan’s coming to get me, and it’s all her fault.
Peter Pan galloped to my corner, pointing his knife at my chest. The pinecones drizzled from the trees upon his arrival. I screamed, cupping my ears and burying my head in a pool of agony.
And then Mom’s knife penetrated my chest. She stole the light from my eyes.