The Modernisation Of Wendy + Peter P. - Part 8

My mother and I are out running errands all day long. By the time I reach my home, I am so tired I can barely walk up the stairs. I clean up and collapse onto my bed. The second my head hits my pillow, my eyes close and I fall blissfully into a deep slumber.
I dream of him again that night.
He is trying to convince me he is real, and I just smile and nod. But I know the truth. I simply play along. It is only a dream after all. There is no harm playing along and falling into the fantasy in a dream.
As soon as daybreak arrives, I awaken. Instead of feeling refreshed as I should after such a restful sleep, I feel disoriented and confused. And disturbed.
Something is niggling at me from the deep corner of my mind. I try to shake it off as I get up and start to clear my bed.
I lift up my pillow. There is nothing there.
The sun reaches my bed and decides to rest there.
It all comes rushing back at me.
Peter, holding my hand and pleading with me. Me, nodding along with every word.
Peter, telling me that he is here for me, trying to convince me that I have been calling for him.
Me, finally tiring of these illusions and shutting him out.
Peter, holding the star in his hands as he leaves my room, disappointed.
Peter, leaving a trail of silver dust from my bed to the window.
Peter, the one I have been calling for in my dreams.