I see vague images, being picked up and slung over a shoulder, a boy with a scar and someone else looking at me and blood, lots of blood but that's stopped now.

I open my eyes to the pain of sun, I've been placed in the sun and my eyes aren't adjusted to the sudden brightness.

I slowly push myself up, my trousers were taken off to get at the wound, I presume - I hope and all I have is a slightly large shirt that covers the top of my thighs.

I check out the bandage they used on my thigh and I have to say, it's not bad, it's not great but when I first started having to bandage myself, well I ruined quite a few pairs of jeans.

I stumble around what appears to be the campsite, there are several boys milling around but none of them even looked at me.

"Do you have any food? Please" I begged the boys, "I'm starving."

After quietly but urgently chattering amongst themselves one of the boys got shoved towards me, "P-p-pan says we can't talk to you or g-g-give you anything, until he has seen you."

"Well. If you know that, then why, I wonder", a figure flew so close to my face I could have sworn I heard an impish laugh by my ear, suddenly the boy who'd spoken to me was slammed against a tree and was held there by his throat, his legs flailing below him, "did you disobey me!"

"I'm sorry," he teared up, horrible scrunched-up-face kind of crying, "they made me, they said we had to talk to her, because she was sad.

"No one is sad on Neverland, don't lie."

"He's not. Now put him down." I had finally become sick of this... this monster's behaviour.

Finally remembering I was behind him, the boy, who I can only assume is Peter, flung the boy to the ground and came towards me until we were nose-to-nose.

"Don't. Defend. Crying. Little. Wimps," With each word, he prods my chest hard, causing me to stumble over a tree root and land hard. Falling jolts my wounds and my face screws up in pain.

"Ah, your wounds. We need to discuss those later." Oh shit, discuss means hospital, or it would if there was one on this odd little island, "but, right now, we fight."

"Fight? And what about food? I'm starving." I can't fight, I took karate lessons but I fell over once and had been too anxious to ever go back.

He unsheathed a long dagger and flicked it round so I could take the handle and held his hand out just as one of the boys placed a similar dagger in his hand. They are small but so are we. "You're giving me a sharp?" I couldn't work this boy out.

"Yes, and it's called a long dagger, not a sharp."

"I can't fight." God, my brain is swimming, I have not hurt myself in two days now and I really, really need it. I'm considering sprinting with the sword but I have no idea why he wants me, so I'll stay, for now.

"Just try, if you are as bad as I suspect, you shall be trained. You'll get food when I give you food."

"And if not?" I thought I should ask, though I wasn't sure I wanted the answer.

"Trust me, you will be as bad as I suspect. Peter Pan is never wrong."

Ten minutes later and we're face to face, I know I need to clear my head so I push my hand against my leg, it stings but my head clears enough to fight for a bit. I've been given clothes because apparently he's reasonable enough to know that a pyjama top isn't fighting attire.

Ruthless, as shown from the way he treated someone for talking to me.

Doesn't want me dead, very important, he said if I'm as bad as he thinks he'll train me, meaning he expects me to live.

What do I know about me?

Injured.

Hungry.

Tired.

Unskilled.

Okay, the five rules of combat fighting - my karate teacher would have us recite them at the beginning of every lesson.

Number one - don't be there.

This is not helpful, I'm already here.

Number two - if you're already there, leave.

Also unhelpful, I'm stuck on an island with, I can presume, no adults. Running would tire me out much faster than him, I've had no food or drink for however long I was asleep and I'm injured.

Number three - what are your opponents weaknesses?

None, as far as I can see. He seems skilled with his blade, juggling it between hands. He has little regard for his 'boys' so a hostage wouldn't work.

Number four - check your surroundings.

Trees. Lots of trees. And a pile of swords... No, I'm not here to hurt him.

Number five - fight.

I can see my training went to great use.

We've already been shuffling about for a few seconds, I watch him carefully for twitching or subtle movements but he keeps spinning his dagger making it incredibly difficult to notice when he suddenly lunged forward, I yelped and jumped backwards.

He smirked.

I breathed out slowly, do not let him get you mad, mad makes mistakes.

I was now backed up against a tree, I needed space, I couldn't fight properly without space.

I couldn't get a good foot position, not without shoes and definitely not whilst standing on tree roots. I held my sword up and he started walking towards me, backing me against the tree and so I lunged, flailing my sword in his face, occasionally making contact with his sword, punctuating every hit with a loud yell - a common tactic in karate - he obviously sees what I'm doing but allows it to happen.

I manage to back him up against a tree, though I can guarantee that he let me.

We carry on, him expertly blocking each flail I make with my sword, he must know that I'm exhausted, wounded and starved.

He has been slowly backing me back towards the tree, he must know he's going to beat me.

I stumble over some tree roots and he places the tip of his sword on my chest.

Half wanting to stand up and let him stab me, half wanting to flop back, to give up and accept full defeat.

But instead, I use the last of my strength to kick his leg out from under him and he falls to the floor.

He stands straight back up and walks away, I take this as an end to the fight and sleep.

My dreams are short and troubled but I sleep anyway.

When I wake, the boys are dancing round a camp fire, Pan plays a tune on his pipe and I listen, it's sweet and lively.

My stomach has been so empty for so long that I am not hungry. I stand but my vision goes black and I fall back.

The music stops and I can feel people grabbing at my arms and legs, I try to kick out, from instinct, and end up being firmly held by, I can assume, the boys.

I am lain on a cot and forced into a sitting position, somebody hands me some soup and then a small boy ushers everybody else out.

"Drink it, you haven't eaten in hours, days, depending on when you ate before you came."

I put the bowl to my lips and blew, hoping it wouldn't be too hot but blowing made me dizzy and I had to lie down again.

"You're the first girl we've had here you know, to stay?"

"I just need to talk to Peter, he wants me, I don't know why." I lie resting the soup on my belly. The boy has gone strangely quiet so I feel the need to ask, "are you a prisoner?"

"No! My parents didn't want me, Pan wants all his Lost Boys."

"But can you leave?"

"Nobody tries. One boy left once, but I don't know why."

"How did he get off the island?"

He goes quiet again and I know I've pushed it too far.

"Drink some soup."

"I-I'm not hungry." I lie, I am half scared of food and half scared of eating on this island, what if it's like Persephone and Hades, eat the food and you can never leave?

"You begged me for food earlier, now drink." He stands over me while I sip at the soup. I do recollect him being in the group earlier, which makes me think of the way Pan treated the boy who talked to me, I need to investigate this island, it's not right, something very strange is happening here and I want to know what.

I finish the soup so he instructs me to get some proper sleep on the bed and leaves.

I lie on my back looking around, a tent, nothing special but it's sturdy, filled with different equipment which makes me wonder who sends it to them, I don't think this island is inhabited by any adults apart from the ones on the boat and they don't seem like the giving sort, so who gets them their supplies? The swords and the clothes. This would go down in Social Service history if anyone found it.

I chuckle to my self and think of my friends back home. We're miles apart but I love them.

They'd kill me if they knew where I was, I'm long past thinking this is a hallucination, everything is so real, the pain from the salt water, the metal of the daggers, the heat from the soup, this couldn't be a dream.