I wish to be a lost boy


Shelly Batterbee

As I waited for the next ride or next character to see, I dreamed up adventures with my Disney friends.

Deep in the Hundred Acre Wood is where I would love to live. Hidden from the adult world and surrounded only by my friends and the troublesome, ragtag team of stuffed animals that come to life. 

Life would be full of adventures and expoditions. We would find the North Pole and make sure Eeyore always had his tail. If I were ever lonely, I would venture off to these woods and feel welcomed. The judging eyes and screaming whispers of society would be nonexistent, for it would just be me, my stuffed animals, and the woods. 

After my adventures avoiding the Backson and discovering how nice the Heffalumps are, I could go to my stash of pixie dust and fly my way past the second star to the right and continue on till morning. I would reach Neverland and meet the sassy mermaids in the Mermaid Lagoon. I would find Hangman’s tree, grab myself a club, and become a lost boy.

I would never have to think about tests again. I would never have to worry about the future or the way I dressed. I would dress in the same outfit everyday like all characters do. 

If I ever got bored—though how I could get bored in Neverland, I don’t know—I would make my way back to the mainland and find Zootopia. I would be in the place where anyone can be anything and predators are at peace with prey. 

We have to get up and watch as our childhood is slowly taken from our grasp. ”

I would be enchanted by the animals I would see and meet. It would be like the time I went to NYC—the world would seem as if it were in the palm of my hand and my dreams really would come true. 

If my dreams ever did shatter, and I wasn’t able to revive it like Judy Hops did, I would move on to the beast’s castle. I would be careful not to pick any roses, and I would try to find the Beast before I did anything stupid. I would make friends with the furniture and play around with the footstool. 

I would stay far away from the west wing but live in the library and ballroom—spending my days waltzing around and rolling down the stacks on the ladders of my dreams. 

From there, I would move on to the streets of Agrabah, and the Monstropolis laugh floor, and all the other worlds that have come from the minds of imagineers and Disney animators. 

I would bring my friends on adventures we’d never forget. We’d meet the heroes of our childhood. We’d sing until we ran out of breath. We’d forget the worries and woes of the real world and live as a lifelong child—Disney lost boys, even when we travel out of Neverland. We’d hear stories and be stories and live a life that we’d never forget. 

But, sadly, we are stuck in this universe of tests, looming future, and judgy people. We have to get up and watch as our childhood is slowly taken from our grasp. 

I know my life will never be a Disney movie, but I can dream, and I can see the little cottage I would own. For just a second, my imagination returns to me, and I am that little girl with the biggest smile wearing a tutu, waiting to see my favorite character at Disney World, and nothing can ever take away my happiness.