[ EU ] Peter Pan visits a child of a modern dysfunctional family who has long since given up believing in magic .

Peter floated down through the open window, settling down soundlessly on the plush carpet. He gazed on upon the innocent face of Matilda and wondered what kind of family she had that had corrupted her imagination and ruined her childhood. This was one child that he could help. 
 
 He grazed her cheek with one finger and whispered, `` Let us go my princess, Neverland awaits.'' Matilda's eyes shot upon and she stared up at Peter's gentle smile. 
 
 A second passed and then from her porcelain mouth issued the most blood-curdling scream Peter had ever heard. He froze, simply amazed and altogether impressed at the duration and pitch of her wail. Hell, even little Timmy had n't screamed like that when Captain Hook fingered him. `` Princess, do n't be alarmed. I'm here to save you! ``, he intoned, layered his voice with magical reverb and enticing her towards the window. 
 
 Just then, the bedroom door burst open with a bang, detaching from one hinge in the process. Silhouetted in the hallway light was the considerable bulk of Bruno, Matilda's stepfather. He took one look at the scene and then launched himself at Peter like a bodybuilding cheetah. 
 
 Peter giggled merrily and flew out the window. At least, he tried to, but that was interrupted when Bruno's kielbasa-sized fingers latched around his neck. They fell together two stories in the rose garden, and there Peter Pan encountered a sound beating. `` Tinkerbell, save me! ``, Peter cried between blows, but alas Tinkerbell was far, far, away slinging fairy dust in the streets and not there in his final moment of need. 
 
 Matilda surveyed the scene from the shattered remains of the window. `` He was flying, Daddy!'' she yelled. `` I saw it! I saw it with my own eyes.'' `` Go back to sleep Matilda. ``, sighed Bruno, leaving the unconscious green-clad boy in the garden lumbering back into the house. 
 
 Matilda awoke to the first rays of sunlight creeping through her room. She sat up and surveyed the room, bleary eyed. Nothing was damaged. Nothing was broken. What it all a dream? How strange. 
 
 She walked up to the window and looked down at the rose bushes. It may have been her imagination, but for a single magical moment she could have sworn she saw a golden hummingbird flutter away, streams of gold dust streaming in its wake.
