"It's me, John. It's me –Wendy," I say, tugging on his arm tighter still.

"You're a Wendy?" John asks, head tilted.

"But what's a Wendy?" Michael asks, face filled with curiosity.

I was prepared for this, but still I cannot pretend it does not crash into me like a leveling blow. My brothers do not know who I am, unable to recognize me after our years apart, unable to recognize the sister who has changed while they remained the same.

I turn around the room again, address everyone I make eye contact with. "I'm here for my brothers. And everyone else who wants to leave with us," I announce.

"Leave?"

"Go?"

"Never!"

A rumbling of murmurs erupts as each Lost Boy looks to the next.

"You are trapped here, don't you understand? All of you are trapped." I keep my voice calm, but the panic is flooding.

Sunlight pours into the tree now and I know the morning has come in full swing. I fear my time is running out.

I search the lost faces in earnest, a silent plea for them to understand me.

"Come on. I will save you from this place! We can leave together –all of us. Pan can't keep you captive here forever!" I pace back with fervor, looking at each Lost Boy as I pass.

"You know," a cold voice says behind me. "There was a time when you used to call me Peter."

Pan's voice stops me in my tracks. I turn slowly, bracing myself for our reacquainting. Peter Pan is leaning against the tree trunk erect in the center of the hideout. He is cool and casual and my cheeks flush with fury just at the sight of him.

"There was a time when I believed in you." I make myself sound strong, even if I'm losing my conviction.

"And you don't anymore, is that it?" Pan's tone is bone-chillingly light. "Look around, how can you not believe?"

"We believe in you, Pan!"

"Yea!"

"Oi"

"Of course we do!"

A chorus of adulations erupts from the huddle of Lost Boys.

"Boys, boys," Pan says, hushing them silent.

"Pan, I've come to–" I begin.

"It's no bother, Wendy. I know why you've come. I know you've missed me," Pan smirks. "Know you spent years wishing yourself back here."

My stomach turns into a hollow pit. Does he know?

"You don't frighten me, Pan. Not anymore!" I muster feeble courage.

Pan zooms around the room, flying from one spot to another, orbiting around me like a predatory bird circling its prey. I find myself watching him intently; I examine everything about him that my eyes can take in.

The fabled Peter Pan looks both the same and changed since I last lived on this charmed island.

He looks like a walking part of the forest –like his garments are made from animal hides plastered with leaves and plumage. Springy moss climbs the sides of his legs, crawling up onto his open chest and across his island-kissed skin. Multi-color feathers are tied at the back of his head, peeking out from behind his cap.

Pan lands on the ground in front of me, taking his cap into his hands. As I stare upward into Pan's honey-green eyes, seeing my own reflected back to me, I realize just how tall Peter Pan is. Not only tall, but old.

It's not that he's an adult, it's that he's seemed to age with me.

"You're–" I stop, swallowing down my words. This isn't right. Peter Pan is a child –an eternal child.

"Something upsetting you, Wendy?" Peter asks, his smile sinister.

Yes. I gulp hard. "No."

"Are you sure about that?" Pan asks, his question full of mock concern.

I don't want to say he's captivating –I can't say he's captivating. I can't even think it. There is just something about him. I once thought of the boy Peter Pan as my friend, a good-humored companion. Now, this young mercurial man stands before me and it's like he knows all my new fears.

He is a new animal –a ghost of himself –teetering on the inexplicable line separating child and man. I feel myself staggering a line as well.

I meet his loathsome gaze and feel the animosity surging through my veins. It's the very same gaze, sated with intensity, that makes me want to throw caution to the wind –let my caution fill the sails of every pirate ship in Neverland.

I am spellbound.

I want to lean up and kiss Pan.

No.

"You say you've come to fetch your brothers, rescue them?" Pan's menacing voice brings me back to the issue at present. "Ah, but Wendy, have you asked yourself do they want to be rescued?"

"They–" I falter. "They DO! They just don't know it because you've –you've tricked them!"

"Tricked them? Tricked them!?" Pan shrieks, laughing. "Wendy, Wendy. A Lost Boy cannot be tricked by the great Peter Pan. They are not lost because I choose them. They are lost because they choose me."

I mull this sentiment.

"They choose Peter Pan." Pan spits, a foot from my face. I can smell his saccharine breath engulfing my face.

"I–" I pause, my lips parted.

"Don't be foolish and think otherwise," Pan scowls.

"Ya!"

"Oi!"

"Long live Pan!"

"PETER!"

The chorus breaks out again, drowning my ears in jubilant shouts of sickening praise. I shake my head, hoping to shake my mind clear along with it.

"Of course, Wendy," Pan says, reassuming his coy and charming demeanor, "You're welcome to choose me as well. Join us. Join us now and I will forgive your last departure."

"No one would choose you, Pan. No one would choose this –this–" I stop, looking around Hangman's Tree as if the word I'm searching for is written on the walls. I've lost my train of thought again, distracted by Pan's proximity.

"Tell her, boys." Pan says as he paces around the dirt floor. He stops in front of Michael and John and his eyes narrow on mine.

Revulsion swells in my stomach at the looks of adoration on my brothers' faces.

"Tell Wendy, John and Michael. Go on, tell her you chose me. Chose me OVER HER!" Pan shouts.

John and Michael's round faces stare up at Pan in awe and my eyes well up, threatening to overspill.

My insides are boiling and I'm nearing my breaking point. I cannot sit here and listen to this. I cannot sit here and face Pan.

"Stop!" I cry.

"Stop?" Pan repeats, almost laughing at the word. "But Wendy, this is a most pleasant timing for your unexpected visit. You have returned just in time for the Culling."

If Pan's demeanor seemed disturbing before it is nothing now to the utter evil emanating from his core.

I wonder how I missed it before –how was I blind to his unpredictable wickedness?

I can't bring myself to ask what the Culling is. Pan must sense this, because he continues his declaration.

"Soon all these boys here will be as committed to this island as I am. Their souls will become one with mine."

"No."

The singular word is hardly audible. Fear grips at my throat, constricting my breath and preventing me from speaking. Pan steps closer to me still.

"Stay with us. Join us, Wendy," Pan coos.

Why does my name sound pleasant on his lips?

No.

I'm not Wendy anymore.

"I will not," I say, stepping back.

Pan lifts his piercing hazel gaze and the trance between us is broken.

"Have it your way." Pan hisses, all pretense lost. "It matters not. You will join us in the end."

"Never!" I bark.

"You will," Pan says. "Mark my words, Darling."

His arrival at my new assumed name catches me off guard.

His eyes narrow in mischievous pleasure. He knows.

It's not the first time I've gotten the feeling he can read my mind.

I make a split second decision to leave. It's been six years, what's another few days? I will leave my brothers now if it means saving them later. I just need a plan to prevent this Culling thing –to save all the Lost Boys.

"Step aside," I say, my conviction back.

"Leaving so soon?" Pan asks. "And so empty-handed?"

"Step aside," I repeat, my voice firm. I cannot waver now.

I stare into Pan' face, determined not to back down. For a moment, I think he will stop me from leaving. I picture myself tied up with rope, tossed in a dirty corner, and let to rot in this hollow tree. I can tell Pan is considering something.

Pan's lip twitches into a momentary smirk before it returns to a straight line. "On your way, Wendy."

Pan flies aside, gesturing to the wide-open space next to him. I pass at a run, anxious to return to the forest where I can be seen and where I can breathe fresh air again.

"You'll be back here! I'll see you soon, Wendy!" Pan bellows after me.

I stumble running away from Hangman's Tree –desperate to put as much distance as possible between that dreadful prison and me.

I do not dare return to my mini fortress. Dobo saw it, not that I'm sure he could find it again. Besides, it's too close.

I want OUT of Neverwood.

I want off of Neverland.