Neverland

Chapter 1

Neverland.

That's where I was gonna go. Not like in Peter Pan where you stay young forever. No. I was going to go to the beautiful place of infinite sleep. I've been wanting, no, wishing, for an escape. And Neverland seems to be it. It's quite simple actually, take enough sleeping pills for your body to shut down, then you die in a peaceful slumber. But, no, of course it can't be that easy. Instead, your body has to react and it causes you to start throwing up. It rids the body of the killing item, in this case: the pills, that slowly shut down all of your systems. Instead of finding your escape, you often wake up in a puddle of your puke with the beautifully written suicide note drenched. This often isn't the way you'd want to escape, but it's my plan. And I choose to stick to it.

Now you know my plan, but not my name.

Let me introduce myself. I'm Jo Hays. Teenage Rebel. Known for my golden locks and scar covered wrists. These are mere descriptions of me. The main image that everyone seems to have: Failure [of suicide attempts, of course]. I've gotten used to the title. It doesn't faze me anymore, I've blocked out nearly every voice.

Except for one which manages to sneak through the little cracks in my infinitely high walls. Some people are special. Some change your life. He's my escape, well, he could be if I didn't already have death knocking on my front door.

Brandon Harris.

He's the ultimate asshole of the school. He's also the quarterback so I'd almost have to expect it, but he's different. He doesn't care what everyone else thinks. He is caring. He's the only jock who hasn't ever pushed me aside or called me out for a flaw. Actually, he is the one who helps me up and asks if I'm okay. He's different from anyone else. He hasn't let society change him.

Yet, once he helps me, he has to play it off as a joke to his friends. I don't blame him, really. I wouldn't want him losing his friends or popularity over me. That's a lot to risk for a messed up girl, yet he does it. It's not like I want to like him. I know I shouldn't. I know he's not good for me. Yet I can't seem to let him go, get him out of my mind.

It's not hard to lose track of his friends though, he has too many to keep track of anyway. Even though I can't remember all of them, I do know his right and left hand men.

Jesse Holman.

Brandon's right hand man. On the field, Jesse is the wide receiver. They work perfectly together. They've been best friends since Kindergarten and have always enjoyed the sport. Jesse isn't even able to envy Brandon because they share the spotlight. The whole team takes the spotlight at some point, but mostly those two. They understand it well. A quarterback can't make a touchdown without someone to run the ball. And a wide receiver can't catch/run the ball if he has no one to throw it to him.

At least they're not jerks to each other about who's more popular. Mr. Popular doesn't seem to matter much in our high school, which I know, that's uncommon. But here, it mostly revolves around who's Mrs. Popular. I really don't get it. Having either of those titles often means suck-ups and fake friends. Who would want that? But they seem to take pride in having either.

Kane Porter.

Or as all of the girls like to call him: Sugar Kane. Some call him 'Candy Kane' instead. But I don't get it. How big could his ego get? He's Brandon's left hand man. He plays Tight End, and he's damn good at it, but a bit too much of a show off. He can't just let his victories be subtle, he has to announce it to the world, literally. He yells it loud enough to wake anyone in a 20-mile radius. I'm obviously exaggerating, but still, he's obnoxious. He also makes a mental note of all his yardage and touchdowns during the game so he can post it on Twitter whenever he gets a break.

•  •  •  •  •

High School is supposed to be the best four years of your life. Where you really find yourself. At least that's what we all thought in Junior High. But instead, you have the bitches of the school that take pride in making everyone else feel bad about themselves. The jocks that need to make sure that everyone knows they're in charge. And the teachers that seem to hate us. Bitches and jocks are at the top of the school pyramid and teachers are at the very bottom. Even past the emo and goth clans, that's totally me! Yet, all the way at the bottom, they still hold all of the power.

If a jock is failing a class, the teacher can keep them out of the sport until he/she brings up his/her grades. If a bitch gets caught making out with one of the guys, a teacher can give them detention or suspend them. Detention will prevent their after school hooking up. Suspension just gives them more time to do more hooking up and encourages more guys to skip school during that time. But, there's a possibility they could get left back, then no one would want anything to do with them.

Anyways, I'm bottom on that pyramid. But I don't really care much. It often means that I'm out of everyone's sight. So most don't pick on me, or even talk to me. Which I guess is good. Except for some who seem to favor torturing me, and I really don't get why I'm anyone's main target.

Well, now you know some of my backstory. I know it doesn't really explain much, like why I'd want to cut or why I'd want to die. I don't really tell anyone the specifics until I know I can really trust them. In all honesty though, it's really hard for me to trust anyone. No one. Absolutely no one knows my whole backstory. Stay with me through some or my darkest hours, and maybe, just maybe, you will find out.