Peter Pan Syndrom

When I was one years old I babbled my first word. My first word was, Peter: a name everyone knows. A name of a fictional character who brought joy and laughter and excitement into the world. Also, with him, he brought epiphanies to children all over the globe; the epiphany of “I don't want to grow up.”.
         At the age of three, I watched the oh so famous peter Pan fly about the night sky with little Wendy, little Jon, and little Michael and little Teddy. At so young of age I didn't know anything other than the colors were pretty. Seven years later I understood what everything meant. I understood the movie in more ways than one. I understood the beginning; Everyone needs to grow up. I grasped the middle; Not everyone wants to grow up. And I understood the ending; Everyone will, eventually, grow up.
         Being a stubborn child, I asked my mother “Can I stay a kid forever like, Peter?” and she answered, like a mother will often do, saying “You can be anything you want to be, sweetie.” and I believed her with all my heart. I used being a kid as an excuse to get out of dirty work, like the true kid I was: “Kids don't do dishes”, “Kids aren't allowed to babysit their baby brothers”, ”kids don't play with their, bratty, sixteen year old cousins.”. But my mother never hesitated in snapping back at me: “Too bad”, “Do it, Now!”, “That's too bad, you're doing it anyways.”.
         As the years went by, I noticed my hair getting longer, my face becoming more defined, my figure more girlish, and my height growing closer to the ceiling. I was growing into a young woman. I was no longer a kid like Peter or Wendy or Jon or Michael. I was no longer picking Lucky Charms or Rice Krispies for cereal; instead I was choosing Raisin Bran and Life. I was no longer a child like I wanted to be. My body, once possessing a bright glow, now had a dim light to it. My face  lost that innocent quality one, three, and ten year-old's happen to have. My laugh was no longer cuter, and boys had cooties, no more.
         When I noticed myself getting older, growing up, I marched up to my mom and asked her “I thought I could be anything I wanted, didn't you say I could be a kid forever?” My mother looked at me and said, quietly, “Honey, you're 13 now, not ten. Don't you think it's time you grow up now?” I knew, at that point in my short life, that she had lied to me. My hopes and dreams of never worrying  about taxes or bills or responsibilities...of being a kid, were put on a shelf I could never reach, no matter how much I wanted to. No step ladder, or begging would bring that dream down. I felt as though someone had yelled, straight into my ear “I DON'T BELIEVE IN FARIES”, and as it turned out, I was the farie that fell down dead.
         When I was in between the ages of six and thirteen my favorite movies was Peter Pan. The story of little boy who never grew up. My second favorite movie was Casper. Casper: a movie about a friendly ghost who could no longer grow up, even if he wanted to. Both characters never have to worry about right or wrong. They can go left, right, right side up, and upside down, and no one can tell them not to. Both of them, are brought to life using computers and imagination. I knew this, yet I still didn't care. I knew that if I wanted to be a child forever there was one way. I wasn't afraid either. Sure: people would miss me but they wouldn't feel sorry for me, because they should know that it's truly what I want. I desired to die a child, just like Casper.
         Still at thirteen years old, I waited until my mother was asleep in her bed. I swung myself out of my bedroom at 1:00 am and went into my bathroom. I got a bottle of medicine caplets from the drawer and spilled twenty pills from the bottle into my palm, I also poured myself a glass of water. Looking down, I wondered if being a kid was really worth it. Was it worth the heartache it would cause my family and friends, was it worth spending thousands of dollars on a funeral? At the time I didn't know.  I didn't really think about it. I knew that I was going to be the girl who would give her life to reach her dream. The girl who put her life on the line to get exactly what she longed for. So, ultimately, there was no question. I was ready and I knew, somehow, that everyone would get along just fine without me.
         I put the caplets in my mouth, all at once, and took a sip of water. I stumbled into my mothers bedroom and climbed into her bed, feeling dizzy. My head hit the pillow and a huge rush of headache immediately followed. My eyesight went fuzzy and dark. Still laying next to my mommy, I heard her whisper “I love you baby. I know you're not a kid anymore but you'll be such a brilliant, loving young woman when you get older.” Before my eyes shut, I felt two tears roll down my cheeks.  My hearing faded into nothing and my thoughts shattered. My senses ceased to exist and my headache evaporated.
          The once dim light I had, suddenly, went out. And there was no Peter, no Wendy, nor Casper, to clap me back to life.





Harmon