Memories Of Pixie Dust (A Peter Pan Fanfic)

I've known her since she was born.
She doesn't know I exist yet, but she has always believed in me.
She's alone in the world.
Her only friend is the Man on the moon; and even sometimes he will go away too.
She has no trace of who and where her parents are, nor who she thinks she is.
She has one piece of family left, that is her older sister, Charlotte.
And one thing that had been left behind from her mother for her.
It's around her neck, she has had it her whole life not knowing what it is.
She thinks it's a sign of who she is.
Who her parents were.
Oh god, how innocent and naive she is.
If only she knew the truth.
She grows up hating herself; hating the thought of her existence.
Being bullied for who she is, and how she looks.
She lets it out by painting and crying.
Her canvas the beautiful creme color of her complexion.
Her paint brush a thin silver lining.
Her paint a crimson red.
She unfortunately is the canvas.
The skin of her arms, writs, and thighs, covered in red slits.
The only hope she has is what is around her neck.
A tiny jar of something gigantic.
She wears it all the time and never takes it off.
What is it?
Why, it is none other than a slip of paper that reads, Neverland on one side and on the other reads Home.
It is covered in the most fragile yet strongest thing none to man; Pixie Dust.