Cindy (also known as Allison) lives in New York with her roommate Linda, who has cancer. After meeting a strange old man, Cindy is sent to a different dimension and ends up back in time during Michael Jackson's life starting in 1988.
She is followed...
Neverland seemed endless. Every corridor led somewhere unexpected, every room looked like it belonged inside a dream. I had been living there long enough that most things no longer surprised me. Wanda, however, was still determined to uncover some hidden secret.
"I still think there's something you're not telling me," she said as she pushed open another door.
I sighed dramatically and leaned against the wall. "What exactly are you expecting to find?"
"I don't know." She shrugged. "A secret laboratory. A dungeon. Dead bodies."
I stared at her. "Dead bodies?"
"Come on," she said. "A celebrity this famous is always hiding something."
I rolled my eyes. "Michael isn't hiding anything."
She gave me a look that clearly said you would say that. The room itself was harmless enough. Dust floated lazily through beams of sunlight pouring in from the windows. Along one wall stood an old wooden dresser filled with photographs. I pulled one out and smiled. A young Michael stared back at me. Beside him stood his brothers, all grinning at the camera. For a moment I forgot Wanda was even there. Then I heard her voice.
"What's this door?"
I turned. A smaller door sat at the far end of the room. Before I could answer, Wanda had already grabbed the handle. Of course she had.
"Wanda—"
The door creaked open. A few seconds passed. Then came a loud crash. Something hit the floor. The door slammed shut so violently the walls seemed to shake. I jumped. Wanda practically threw herself against the door, pressing her back to it. She looked like she wasn't entirely sure she'd seen what she'd just seen.
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"What?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
"What?"
"What the actual fuck?" she whispered.
I blinked. Now I was curious.
"You're messing with me."
"No."
I laughed. "Come on. There aren't any corpses in there."
"Not human ones."
The smile disappeared from my face. "What does that even mean?"
Wanda slowly stepped away from the door. "Cindy," she whispered.
"What?"
"I think Michael is secretly building children."
I stared at her. Then I pushed the door open. The sight inside nearly made me laugh. The room was cluttered from floor to ceiling. Books. Toys. Costumes. Board games. Stuffed animals. And among them stood a life-sized doll. That had fallen onto the floor during Wanda's investigation. The poor thing was staring blankly at the ceiling. I immediately burst out laughing. "Oh my God."
