SONG TO LISTEN TO: I Found- Amber Run

    I slept, not soundly but I slept.

    The sun wakes me up, signaling that the morning has begun.

    But in Neverland, you can never be too sure. For all I know, it could be two in the afternoon. Time doesn't really have a coherent structure anymore.

    It illuminates the horizon, the darkness finally disappearing. Hopefully all the dastardly things that accompany it will go into hiding as well. Doing evil things is much harder when there are people around to see you.

    I slowly climb out of the tree. My throat is sore, and my hands are beginning to feel dry. I didn't drink or eat anything yesterday. I'm not sure if I drank or ate anything the day before that either. I stumble forward, steadying myself against a nearby tree.

    I think this game ends after the next night. I mean, yesterday was a full day. Maybe it's the dawn of tomorrow. That is, if dawn is when it's supposed to be.

    I spot berries and bend down to grab them. The squish in my hands, to a purple goop.

    Are these the berries that made me hallucinate?

    People can live for something like a month without eating, before they die. I can last until I get back to the camp. Whenever that may be.

    I can't tell if I'm actually confused by Pan's instructions, or if it's these woods.

    Nothing has really gone right when I've explored Neverland on my own. At least I haven't had a run in with that tiger.

    I stop and listen for anything. No sound. I don't know how to find the ocean. I don't even know how to find the cliff where I left James. I can't figure out if I hope someone found him or if I hope no one has. The boys here tend to be either hit or miss. If no one found him, I bet he's dead now. If anyone has, the odds are fifty-fifty.

    No use worrying about it now.

    I keep walking, until I reach a field. It's a large break in the otherwise dense forest. The grass is tall, taller than I am, the deep green towering over me. Sunlight bounces just over top, creating an immensely dark shadow, casted over me.

I turn around, heading back into the forest. The only thing that grass is good for is hiding people, or even animals. It's a good place to be ambushed.

I pause.

    I hear something. A twitch, or the snap of a branch or something. I have never had good hearing. I've also never been good at defending myself, or fighting, but in the dire need of the forest, things aren't the same.

    One thing that surprises me here, is that the forest is a very silent place. The only thing that makes sound is me. In the silence of the forest, the presence of others is always known.

    I hear thumping before I see them, a group of boys, flying straight at me from the tree line. I only recognise a few, Dominique and Fred are among them. They shove past me, hoping to get into the grass.

An arrow flies at me, rooting its deep black point into a tree. It missed my face by inches.

I stumble backwards, to run. A boy running past grabs hold of my wrist and pulls me into the field. Thankfully the grass moves back into place surrounding us. If the grass stayed flat where we step, our path would be revealed and we'd have no chance of hiding.

Funny, I thought people in the grass would be hiding from me, and not that I'd be hiding in the grass from people.

We take a sharp left until the boy crouches down close to the ground. I follow suit as he turns to face me.

Johnny.

"Indians." He explains.

I thought that there weren't any natives on Neverland. At least, not any that would bother us. I vaguely recall that statement coming out of Pan's mouth. Or something along those lines. I've never had a good memory.

"What are-" he puts a finger up to my lips.

Right, silent. We've got to wait this out. It's closer to fight than flight. Because you can't run away from arrows, and because home team has the advantage. I'd rather not be hiding from people who know the island better than I, but that doesn't mean I'd like to run from them.

I wonder how they got here, or if they were always a part of this world. Pan seems to have some control over the mermaids, does he not have control over the natives?

Something is moving closer to us in the grass. Johnny stands up and reaches his arms behind me. A quick crack as his arms move. I turn around in time to see the body drop behind me, his legs giving out beneath him.

The boy's face is pale, and his eyes open wide. He doesn't so much stare at me as he does stare, unblinking.

I can hear my heart beating, but I can't hear his.    

My wrist is in Johnny's hand and he's pulling me away, farther into the field. Or maybe it's out of the field. I can't concentrate on where we are moving. Not when I can still see that boy so vividly in my mind.

We are out of the forest and running. I can't breathe. I pass Johnny, and run farther and farther, hoping over roots and around trees, avoiding everything and anything in my path. Running out of desperation is exhausting, not simply physically but emotionally. I constantly feel like I'm going to die here.

I feel his arms wrap around my waist and pull me off to the side.

He backs me into a tree and he rests his forehead against mine. He wraps his arms around my back and pulls me into a tight hug. My hands twitch back and forth, unsure if I don't want to wrap them around him or if I actually can't.

Did Johnny just kill someone?

His hands are on my face, trying to soothe me. I can't hear him over my own heartbeat. Am I going into shock again?

"It's alright." His voice returns, as he places his hands on my cheek.

"Did," I breathe, turning to look back towards the field. "Did you..."

The words can't form themselves in my mouth.

I try to back away from him but I'm held back against a tree. My hands find his and I move his hands off my face.

"Did you," I begin to cough, spitting all over the ground.

Somehow, saliva is pouring out form my dry throat. He holds me against him, so I'm retching forward. His hands are around my waist, holding me up.

I wish he would let go.

He lifts me up, and hands me a flask.

"It's just water."

I quickly down the whole thing. I can't say no to water.

Did he kill that boy?

My mother once told me never to do anything while I'm angry, I need to calm down before bringing it up. We need to keep moving.

    I shrug him off my shoulders, walking forward. He doesn't try to speak to me, and I'm grateful for it. It's hours until we find a clearing.

Why there is a clearing with nothing but dirt and a rock in the center is beyond me, but I'm okay with the situation.

"Are you alright now?" He asks sitting down next to me.

I nod. I have a splitting headache from the dehydration, but otherwise I'll live.

    "What happened?" He asks.

    The sun is finally beginning to set. It's only been up for a few hours. It took a while for us to calm me down.

    God, I'm so weak.

    "What happened to your face?" He turns my face up to look at him.

    "I could ask you the same." He has a split lip and a black eye.

    "This was all from Marcus," he assures me. "It's not new."

    He touches my face between my ear and my eye. I wince, pulling away.

    "It's nearly a perfect straight line," he says. "It's really deep too. A huge chunk of your skin's been taken out. My coach would pull you off the field, tell you to get stiches."

    Samuel clawed my face, just before he died. I hadn't even thought about it. I'll probably have a scar for the rest of my life now.

    Samuel doesn't get the rest of his life.

    "Did you kill that boy?" I ask.

    He looks at me, taking aback by the sudden question. "The Indian? No I just knocked him out."

    He stands up and grabs my hands, pulling me to my feet.

    "Can I please, just check it out?" He asks.

    He reaches his hands back up towards my face and I knock his hands away.

    "Where have you been?" I ask.

    "With Dominique and Fred." He tells me. "Why won't you let me just take a look at it? You have hair sticking in it."

    My hands reflectively go up. I find the piece of hair, quickly pulling it out of the cut. A sharp pain seers through my face. I barely care.

    "Listen, your skin is dry and peeling everywhere, which is going to make it harder to heal, and the left side of your face is covered in blood." He sighs. "And we can't wash it, given we don't even have water to drink."

    I pull my hat off, my hair falling out of it. I pull it over to the left side of my face, away from the cut, rolling my eyes. This cut isn't going to kill me. It's a waste of time to check it out.

    He looms over me, slowly tilting my head to have a better look at the cut.

    A branch snaps behind us and we whip around. Thomas stands, wide eyes staring at us. At me, and my hair.

    Johnny leaps forward, chasing down the boy. I quickly throw my hair up into my hat, taking off after them. I sprint forward, trying to catch up.

    "Thomas," I screech out.

    He continues running, forward farther and farther away. He's quick, but not as quick as Johnny. An arrow shoots between them, saving Thomas for just a few seconds.

    The Natives are back.

    We turn and run back through the forest, no longer chasing Thomas but in fact running together. I spot Lyle and Max jumping down from a tree.

    "Thomas," Lyle shouts, darting over to the boy.

    Arrows continue to fly past us. Separating Lyle and Thomas from me, Johnny, and Max. I turn around to spare a glance at our attackers.

    Attacker; it's Gregory.

    He throws down the bow and picks up speed. He runs over, following towards Lyle and Thomas. I chase after them, speeding up faster this time.

    "Lyle, Thomas!" I screech.

    I turn and keep running, moving past Johnny's arms, which are outstretched to grab me. He has already taken hold of Max in one hand. I don't know if the two really know each other.

    I'm nearly upon Gregory, Lyle, and Thomas, when Lyle trips. Thomas stops and turns around to help him up, but not before Gregory lifts the boy off the ground.

    "Lyle!" I scream.

    I can hear the boy crying. I can hear his screams, carrying through the trees.

    The forest is silent, except when for the sounds of Lyle. As if the whole island is on standstill, in the bleachers watching this game.

    Thomas runs past Gregory into me. Grabbing hold of my arms, he pulls me backwards. Trying to get me away from Lyle and Gregory.

    "Lyle!" I shout once more, pulling against Thomas.

    Gregory throws Lyle against the ground. His screams echo through the forest. There is a bat in Gregory's hands. I can't move, but my ears can still hear Lyle's screams slicing through me.

    His voice is high, and piercing. I can see the deep red blood pouring out of his head, dripping down his face. Bodies aren't meant to be thrown against the ground.

    Gregory hoists the bat above his head.

    Lyle has his hands up in defense, killing at Gregory's unwavering feet. Pleading, crying asking for help.

    Gregory tightens his grip.

    I can't move. I'm forced to watch this, unable to help, yet unable to flee.

    Grunts escape from Gregory's mouth, as he swings down the bat.

    Lyle's final scream echoes through the forest. He isn't screaming anymore.

    Gregory drops the bloody bat, and his shirt is covered in the red paint. The hard wood thumps against a rock, and he smears the blood across his face as he tries to wipe it off.

    His body no longer resembles him. His body isn't him. It's just a body. Blood and bones and muscles and skin. All these things no one should ever see.

    I can't recognise Lyle's face.

    His blood pools around him on the ground in a puddle.

    I turn around, finally letting Thomas drag me back through the forest.

    Johnny continues to run with Max on his back, as Thomas and I run slowly catching up. We don't stop, and I can hear all of our breaths. We heave as we run, darting over trees, crashing loudly through the forest.

    The forest is silent, except for when we interact with it. There is no wind, there are no animals, all there is here, is us, trying to run. Run from the boys, run from the blood of our friends, run from everything.

     Johnny turns, pulling a long rope. A door pulls up from the ground, revealing an entrance into a cave of dirt. He enters and we follow suit, the door shutting behind us. He throws Max down and looks straight at Thomas.

    "You," he turns to me. "Brought him-"

    "I wasn't going to leave him in the hands of Gregory." My voice shakes at the end of the sentence. "You- you saw..."

    The sentence doesn't seem to know how to finds its way from my head to my lips.

    At least I don't feel like I'm going to vomit. Maybe I need to wait for it to set in. I got sick after I killed Samuel, and when I thought I watched Johnny commit murder. Maybe it just hasn't settled in yet.

    Maybe some part of me hopes he's still alive.

    When I was a young girl, I used to rough house with my sister. Nothing drastic, just the occasionally wrestling and tackling. It used to make our Mom antsy. She hated fighting, which is odd considering she always wanted to teach me how to use a sword.

    She used to say to me, Charlotte, the human body is so fragile. One small hit to the temple and your sister is dead.

    I don't know much about the human body, languages and history were always my strong suit, not math nor science, but I do know getting your face bashed in will-

    I immediately vomit.

    I didn't know I had any food in me, but whatever was left is burning my throat all the way around, and it's bright yellow.

    "He's vomiting stomach acid," Max's voice shakes, he sounds like he's going to cry.

    "When was the last time you ate?" Johnny interjects.

    Max vomits too.

    Great, I've set off a chain reaction.

    "In the cave, really Max?" Johnny complains.

    Johnny storms off past me out the cave, pulling on a rope from this side to lift the door. He leaves it open behind him.

    I sit down on the ground, coughing.

    Johnny is a drama queen.

    Thomas' cloak is at my feet, cleaning up my vomit, he then does the same for Max. Man, that kid is braver than I will ever be.

    I hear footsteps outside the cave, except Johnny doesn't walk in. Two hooded figures, one of which holds a large old lamp enter the tent. The figure lifts his hood and darts over to me.

    "What the hell happened to your face?" Harry asks me, holding it in his hands. "And you're covered in blood, is it yours?"

    Man, everyone here needs to learn to look with their eyes, not their hands.

    "It's not important," I shrug out of his grip

    I don't even dare mention it's Lyle's blood. I was so close to him, close enough to get the splatter on me.

    The other hooded boy is Alex, and like always he looks incredibly displeased to see me.

    "If you got shot by an Indian, you're a dead boy walking." He tells me. "They tips their arrows in Nightshade. Poisonous stuff; we normally only use it in war."

    "Unfortunate for you it wasn't that." I sneer. "I got trapped in a forest fire."

    I just keep getting better and better at lying.

    Johnny comes back in, and chucks a full canteen at me. I move to grab it with my hands, but Harry catches it in the air and hands it off to me.

    "Harry," Alex nods further back into the cave.

    Max and Thomas sit huddled together. Thomas appears to be relaxed, almost as if he is sleeping with his eyes open. Max on the other hand is quaking and sniffing.

    Harry smiles and grabs a few things out of his cloak, chucking them back.

    Thomas catches them almost instinctively, grabbing the objects one after the other and letting them land in his lap. It's dark, but from the light of the lantern I can tell its a few apples and two canteens.

    "Where did those come from?" I ask, puzzled.

    "You get used to scavenging." He says. "I've got two more canteens filled with water, and seven apples."

    "Why do you have so many canteens?" I ask.

    "Anyone who's older than old knows not to grab weapons from the tents." Alex scoffs. "Especially since for the most part we own our own weapons. We all run straight to storage and grab food and water."

    I nod, adding that to the list of things to remember. The list is getting long.

    Johnny stumbles in the cave, looking back and forth between us all.

    "Great, you're here." He mutters, shoving past Alex.

    "We were here first." Alex says.

    Harry looks up behind me at the wall. "What is this place?"

    I turn back to look at what he means.

    All along the wall are thin scratches of tally marks, as well as other drawings, lining the cave from floor to ceiling.

    Alex shrugs it off. "Just some Lost Boy who counted the days away."

    I wonder if he knows more and is saying nothing, or knows nothing more at all.

    "Would you all shut up?" Johnny demands. "I'm exhausted."

    "You're lucky." Alex says. "The sun sets tomorrow and we all get to enter the camp."

    "Is it still going to be on this weird time schedule?" I ask. "Like will we have an hour of sun, or will the day be much longer than before."

    "Hopefully it'll be short," Harry grins, blowing out the candles. "If not, we'll manage."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So this is fun. So now Lyle's dead. Emotionally draining scene to write. I really didn't want to kill him. Like, really. Also, Johnny might've killed a boy, but then he didn't so it's all good.

At least, until tomorrow.

I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve. Who would you most like to be killed? Who's your fav who you hope never dies? Let me know in the comments.

As always, sleep well, and I'll see you tomorrow.