Escaping Neverland

When I was younger, my mother shared a valuable lesson with me: to protect your sheep, you must catch the wolf. However, she neglected to mention that I would have to embody the traits of a cunning wolf to catch another. Deep down, I believe my mother would have preferred if I had chosen to be a sheep, sparing myself from the pain. But let's face it, a self-aware sheep is destined to suffer the most, trapped within its own thoughts. The knowledge of impending death is terrifying, and the constant awareness that it could happen at any moment intensifies the fear. I go by many names—Janice, you, girl, cunt, b***h—but my most reliable nickname, the one that keeps me going, is Wendy. I have assumed the role of a nurturing big sister to all the lost children, even those older than me. In case you haven't figured it out, we reside in Neverland, but this is far from a fairytale with happy endings. The name itself is ironic, considering the striking similarities between our stories. However, there is one truth that many of the kids here have yet to discover: we are literally here to "never grow up," to face our demise. Those chosen among us are sent away to die, while the rest either fall victim to them or take their own lives. I have been here since the beginning, witnessing this cycle repeat countless times, the most heartbreaking being the loss of my mother. On the day of her passing, they explained the system to me, and from that moment, I vowed to do everything in my power to protect the others. As time went on, this task became increasingly difficult, especially after Peter's death. I genuinely love all the children, and initially, I didn't hide the truth from them. When Peter joined the lost kids, I couldn't have been happier. He was two years older than me and helped bear the weight I carried. However, after his passing, I knew I had to shield the others from the truth to prevent them from meeting a pointless demise. Besides myself, only two others know the big secret—Peter's shadows, the reason for his failure. But enough of the somber talk for now; I have the rest of my life to recount the entire story. It's ironic how the worst times of our lives reveal the true colors of others. No matter the pain or fear we endure, we emerge stronger in the end. They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but on days like today, I question whether being stronger is actually a good thing. Just like any other day, I prepared all the lost children—15 of us, excluding the two Shadow boys. Carson was the oldest besides them, and I was the second oldest. Our youngest, Kasey, aged seven, had been with us for two years after Damien snatched her up at a local fair. She cried inconsolably for nearly a week until I told her the biggest lie just to soothe her tears. I assured her that things would get better, drawing from my own experience at her age. Seeing her smile brought me joy, even if it was a selfish desire. All I want is to make these kids smile until the end. Among them all, she was the easiest to care for, especially compared to Trina, who always wanted me to brush and curl her hair. She constantly spoke of looking her best, hoping to be chosen by a wealthy family. But as I said, my sole aim was to see them smile, no matter how futile it may seem. Once everyone was ready, I formed them into a single-file line—girls first, then boys, youngest to oldest—and guided them to the dining area. The dining area boasted a large table already set with an abundance of plates and chairs, accommodating everyone. The children filed into the room, standing behind their assigned chairs, eagerly awaiting permission to sit down and eat. I positioned myself at the foot of the table alongside Greg, the eldest of the Shadow boys. Being the oldest male and female, it was customary for us to sit together at the end. Soon, the ring leader Damien made his entrance, striding to the head of the table and instructing us all to take our seats. Without hesitation, the children sat down, their eyes fixed on the cook as he moved around, placing food on each plate. Today's menu consisted of oatmeal and a cookie, but this didn't bode well. In an abusive relationship, gifts are often used to mask the presence of something sinister, and in this household, it meant someone had been chosen. Among the 17 kids in Neverland, four had already been selected, while the two shadows had surpassed the choosing age. Carson and I, however, were still at the age of shipment and had not yet been chosen. As the others noticed the cookies, their excitement and anticipation grew, their gazes fixed on Damien, awaiting the news. Meanwhile, I looked at Carson, fear coursing through my veins, desperately hoping that neither his name nor mine would be uttered. With a soft chuckle, Damien took his seat and announced, "I assume you are all eager to hear who has been chosen? Well, I have double the good news for everyone. First off, Trina, you have been chosen by a beautiful family. They will come to get you when you turn 15 instead of the usual 17, so we will make the most of the few years we have left with you. The second piece of good news is that we have decided to adopt and have our very own Janice stay with the family to teach and care for all of you and those yet to come." A moment of silence followed before the room erupted with claps and cheers, the children overjoyed by what they believed to be wonderful news. Meanwhile, I lowered my head, panic settling in. Suddenly, I felt a strong, rough hand squeezing my leg. I turned to see Greg, wearing a sinister grin." Smile, sis," he whispered. "Everyone is celebrating the good news, and your sadness is dampening their joy." Sighing, I nodded and pushed his hand away, plastering a fake smile on my face. I looked at Trina and said, "Are you happy, Trina? All our hard work has paid off—a beautiful family for a beautiful girl. "A wide smile spread across Trina's face as she eagerly replied, "But who will help me with my hair once I leave, big sis?" I chuckled, stood up, and walked over to her, embracing her in a tight hug. "Don't worry about that, silly girl. Your new family will have a mother who can help you. Who knows, they might even have an older daughter who can assist you too." Trina hugged me back, and as she turned her attention back to her food, she said, "You're right. But no one could be a better big sister than you." I could feel tears welling up in my eyes as I patted her head. Excusing myself, I quickly made my way back to my room, allowing myself a moment to break down.