Six teenage girls wake with no memories. One of them is in a brick mansion, her blonde hair as shiny as her shoes. The others are in a cabin, their names tagged to the inside of their pants. Their heads, shaved. Slashes mark the cabin wall like someone has been counting.
Hundreds of them.
There’s wilderness all around and one dead adult. The girls discover her body rotting somewhere in the trees. As the weeks pass, they band together to survive the cold, wondering where they are and how they got there. And why.
When an old man arrives with a teenage boy, the girls learn of a faraway island called Foreverland where dreams come true and anything is possible. But Foreverland is dead. In order to escape the wilderness, they’ll have to understand where they are.
More importantly, who they are.
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A rooster crows.
Over and over and over.
He wants her to wake up, to get up. But the girl is stuck in a dream where she’s screaming, submerged in a cloud of fear, unable to move. Unable to see.
Everything, just gray.
She can’t escape, buried beneath the snowy sleep that buzzes like the inside of an anesthetist’s mask. Holding her down.
And the rooster crows.
The girl claws to escape, scratches through the cloth of sleep, follows the rooster like a beacon, a lighthouse on the rocky shoals of the living. She rises to the surface—
The seal of crusty sleep breaks.
She blinks to stay awake, to clear her sight, staring into darkness. Her head is nestled in a pillow, covers pulled up to her chin. The gel-like mattress fits perfectly to her body. Still, her body aches.
Her eyes adjust. Forms bleed from the darkness. First, there are lines…lines scratched on a wooden wall only inches away. They are bundled in groups of five, organized in rows.
She can smell her own breath, thick and rank. A film glues the corners of her lips together. She swallows. Her tongue sticks to the roof of her mouth. Hunger growls in her stomach, perhaps expecting something now that she’s awake.
“Mmmm.”
She jerks her head around, sinking into the pillow. Eyes wide. She listens to her pulse.
It’s a cabin.
There are more beds with lumps beneath the covers, not moving. She can’t tell where the moan came from, but she hears slumbering breath.
She breathes slowly, silently, until it hurts. She tries to remember where she was before she woke, but nothing has ever existed before this moment except for fleeting dreams, like whispers of another world. She dreamed of someone else.
A boy.
| Language | Status |
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Portuguese
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Already translated.
Translated by Pedro Henrique Leal
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