The wind blew gently through the two panel windows, fluttering the pale grey curtains.

A small figure, huddled by the windows, peeked through the cotton material, staring wide-eyed at the missing presence of her best friend. The moon.

Hugging her knees to her chest, she sighed softly. She heard the tapping of footsteps outside her door and saw the lights of the hallway going off through the small gap between the wooden door and the linoleum floor.

Silence filled the three-storey building and perched on the highest floor she stared down at the dying greenery of the front yard.

Lady Aumburn Orphanage.

Read the rickety, wooden sign planted into the dark soil.

This was no orphanage; the little girl had concluded a long time ago. It was an asylum. For unwanted, crazy children.

How she longed to smile once again. But the condition of her captivity would not allow it. Smiling was a lost tale to her.

Crying became more frequent.

"Where are you?" The young girl asked the dark star-speckled sky.

When was the last time she had company? When was the last time she played with a friend?

Minutes seemed like hours, hours seemed like years, in the orphanage. The house mother's gruesome face and consistent scolding were what she trudged through daily; it was tiring.

Oh, who would come to visit a lunatic child?

They say.

The little girl sighed once more, then slowly made her way to her single bed.

When suddenly, she felt a movement, much more solid than the fluttering of the curtains, by the window. The wind blowing through the curtains became even lesser, as though blocked by something.

The little girl turned around. Widening her eyes she almost let out a yelp, but then clamped her mouth shut. Making too much noise would not do any good, as it would disturb the house mother.

She blinked furiously before finally accepting what her eyes beheld.

Leaning against the window was a figure difficult to make out due to the lack of light. But what stood out the most was his glowing smile. Rather than being creepy, the smile felt mischievous and playful.

"Who are you?" The little girl squeaked, gripping the sides of her white nightgown.

"Come over here, and I'll tell you," replied the voice, deep but boyish.

He pushed away from the window and crouched, ushering with his hands for the young girl to come towards him.

Terrified but curious, the little girl came towards the mysterious man. She wondered how he kept in balance whilst standing on the narrow windowsill.

"W-what do you want," she asked when he finally came into view.

She could make out dirty blonde hair and slightly tanned skin. His smile made her think like he was inviting her to play. And she most definitely wanted to play.

"Feeling lonely?" He asked.

She nodded, unknown to why she was obliged to tell the stranger the truth.

"Well then, let me help you," he said with a smile.

Stepping down from the windowsill he knelt down to the girl's eye level.

The girl noticed the dirty green t-shirt the stranger had on, along with dark green pants. He gave her a smile that seemed friendly enough. But the girl's smile-deprived self had yet to get infected by it.

"I can get you out of here. And take you to a place, you'd only dream of," he said in a melodious voice.

The girl still refused to speak, allowing him to continue, "You'd be free. Make tons of friends just like you. Run wild and play all the time. A place where the only boundary is your imagination."

"I-I can't get out. Crazy, unwanted children have to stay here," she managed sadly, looking to ground.

The young man, gently lifted her chin, "Oh, but you're not crazy, or unwanted."

She stared at him disbelieving. Brilliant green eyes stared back at her.

"Ever heard of Never Land?" he asked, amused.

The girl nodded, remembering the storybooks she had on the magical land, where kids never grow up.

"Well, I'll take you to Never Land and make you a lost boy," he said.

The girl looked at him, puzzled. He simply chuckled at her confusion.

"I'll set you free. All you have to do is believe in yourself," he whispered in the girl's ears.

He stood back up and jumped back onto the windowsill.

"My door is locked," she muttered.

The ideas that the mystery man planted in her head became too tempting to ignore. A place that would grant her freedom, like a Lost Boy running around the woods with no boundaries. With the sheer hopelessness in her heart, even the silliest of ideas would do. She wanted to follow him. She needed to follow him. She needed to get out.

Memories of the terrible times at the home haunted her, making it all the more necessary to leave. She could not stay cooped up here forever. Or she might truly go mad.

But most of all, she wanted a friend.

The man smiled at her, as if knowing her choice.

"Oh, we don't have to use the front door. We have a quicker way out. Just believe," he said, before jumping off the windowsill out into the open.

The girl gasped and rushed to the sill looking down for any signs of him. When she suddenly realised a floating figure in front of her.

"Y-you're flying!" She exclaimed.

"I am, and you will to. All you have to do is take my hand," he said as he held out an outstretched hand.

She did not think twice and grabbed his hand, too astonished by the flying man. She stepped onto the windowsill. Three storeys up, the height suddenly did not matter. He slipped his hand away from hers as she gained confidence.

"Now jump," he said.

She hesitated for a moment.

"Tell me, who you are first," she spoke up suddenly.

She felt obliged to know, somehow before jumping out of her cage. Before relishing freedom, she wanted to know her saviour.

He grinned the same mischievous grin. "I'm Peter Pan."

The little girl breathed in, smiled for the first time, in a long time, and jumped.