I've lived here for as long as I can remember. The people here have become my family. I don't remember ever having actual blood-relatives. Just my odd family that lives here.

I can't remember if I ever had any parents. I mean, I know I HAD to have had parents in order to be alive, but I don't know if they ever wanted me or if we were ever a family. I doubt it. That's what the nannies told me, anyway. They say it was really a blessing that my parents had given me up, so I could be with them forever.

Everyone accepted it. No one questioned it. We had a schedule. Mornings we got up, ate our breakfast, then, we basically had the rest of the day to do whatever we wanted, save for lunch and dinner time.

Oh, and we didn't have any electronics. The only TV and radio on the campus was in the nannies' living quarters.

We were never allowed to go into their living quarters. It was off-limits to everyone. Oh, and no kitchen. We were forbidden to go into the kitchen, for some reason. Although, no one ever really knew why.

Anyway, we each had a tattoo on our right upper arm. It was red and looked like this:

When any of us asked the nannies about the tattoos, they kind of skirted around the subject, saying: "It's there so we know you belong."

All of us range from thirteen to eighteen years old. I'm fifteen. When someone here turns nineteen, they mysteriously vanish shortly after.

Again, when we asked the nannies, they would answer in their same cryptic way: "Their time had been fulfilled here."

So, did that mean the nannies helped them start a new life on their own? Did they get adopted? None of us knew.

That was one of the eerie parts for us. What would happen to us after WE turned nineteen?

Whenever we would voice our worries to the nannies, they just hug us close and tell us not to worry, that it be alright. Then we would somehow quickly fall asleep.

Life was good. Our bellies were always full, we could do whatever we wanted, and we only had to follow five rules:

Number 1: Listen to the nannies.

Number 2: Never hurt another.

Number 3: Never go into the nannies' living quarters.

Number 4: You are FORBIDDEN to have any type of education.

And, lastly, Number 5: NEVER go into the kitchen.

The last rule was stressed the most out of all five. Though none of us knew what was SO important in the kitchen that WE couldn't go in there. I mean, we were VERY responsible teen-agers.

But some of us were about to discover that all was not as it should be in our "bubble of protection", as the nannies liked to call it.

But WAS it a "bubble of protection"? Or was this place something much, MUCH worse?