My heart is pounding in my breast. I have never, ever been so terrified.

I am crouched on the ground. My knees are cut and I can feel the blood slowly seeping out of them. Pain is a concept I can no longer comprehend. Shock has kicked in. it's trying to protect me. Really, I appreciate the sentiment but it's fucking useless at this moment.

I daren't look around. I remember, vaguely, there was seven of them when they grabbed me. I was just walking home and out of the bushes they swooped. Grabbed me, stuffed a bandanna in my mouth before I could even draw breath.

I take into account my surroundings. I'm still outside. It's dark and a full moon is shining brightly. It's illuminating my skin, turning it a ghostly white. I can hear some sort of discussion above me. They're discussing whether or not to kill me. I can't see their faces because I still refuse to look up. Someone pulls my hair. I try to scream but the bandanna is still in my mouth, rendering me noiseless. My head is pulled right back. I can feel the tendons and muscles in my neck pulsating alarmingly. A quick slap to my face with a gloved hand and my eyes fly open.

I am looking into the face of a young man. He attends the same school as me and I have a crush on his best friend. I know him by sight but have never spoken to him. He has seen the fear in my eyes and is relishing it. He calls out. The rest of them come into focus now. They are all males I know by sight and all of them are at school with me. They all have the same sadistic smile on their face. Seven in total. I can't begin to imagine what will happen next. The moon illuminates their skin as it has done mine. I didn't think it was possible but their features are so pronounced and terrifying I feel like I'm about to faint.

The ringleader studies me carefully. He releases my hair but keeps a hold of my face, forcing me to look at him. I have no alternative. I stare back defiantly hoping against hope that whatever manner of death they have in mind that it will be quick, painless and dignified. There's a lot to be said for a swift knife to the heart, I think inexplicably.

He smiles at me with almost animalistic lust. Tongue shoots out his mouth and he runs it up the left side of my face. I can smell his acrid breath- a mixture of tobacco and his last meal. There's definitely some stale garlic making an appearance.

The remaining gang members start to applaud, whoop and cheer. Clearly this licking of my face means something to them. Unfortunately, it appears I've missed the joke.

'Tonight, your mine.'

I barely have time to register what he said. My face is slapped with such force, I see stars. By the time I come back to my senses, my shirt is missing. I see it lying in ripped shreds on the ground. My still developing chest is in full view of these boys. The sight galvanises them. War like cries fill the air.

Two of them run at me and begin to remove my skirt. They're doing things to me that I don't understand and most certainly don't enjoy. The rough fingers tear at my flesh. I can't help but feel that they're trying to draw blood, though for what purpose I'm unsure. The leader watches on with an almost disdainful expression while they defile me. I'm making no noise and I'm sure this displeases him. Although the bandanna is still in my mouth. I cant cry out even if I wanted.

He speaks to the remaining observers. I didn't catch the full exchange but I figure he's allocating turns to the rest. Inside I'm screaming. I hurt everywhere. And I am so frightened. But I know no-one will rescue me.

Hours pass. My insides are on fire with pain. I've been violated in places I didn't even know I had. I'm covered in claw marks and dirt. My neck and hair have been pulled so much that I'm surprised that I have any left on my head. I'm on the ground again and it's bitterly cold. My clothes have been ripped from me and even if I were to put them on again, they'd cover nothing and offer little protection from the chill. The bandanna has fallen from my mouth. I think a few teeth have been loosened from my jaw. My head is pounding and my eyes are tired from the effort of not crying.

I sit up and try to protect my modesty but it's useless. They all laugh at me. I realise that the leader is missing. A sliver of hope slices through my mutilated heart. Perhaps the ordeal was nearly over?

Alas no. He appeared holding a black scarf. He told his gang to stick around and enjoy the fun. I immediately thought that the scarf would be to keep me quiet. I was wrong.

He approached me slowly, like he was in no particular hurry. Twisting that scarf like some kind of benevolent snake.

'Get up.'

I looked him straight in the eye.

'What are you going to do to me?'

His grin widened and his trousers tightened. He looked quite deranged and extremely dangerous.

'I'm going to destroy you.'

'Why?'

'Because you deserve it.'

At that, he sprung. His speed was incredible. In one deft movement, the scarf was round my eyes blindfolding me whilst the ends bound my hands together. I was utterly helpless. He was brutal and intrusive. I felt him expand inside me. It was then I started to scream.

I could hear them laughing and he was enjoying himself. Every scream seemed to spurn him on. He was becoming more violent with each scream. I felt my skin tear and I could feel smell blood. I wanted this torture to be over. I wanted to run. But I couldn't. There were seven of them and one of me. Who was going to believe me anyway?

Finally a crescendo scream from behind me signalled that the leader had exhausted himself finally. The blindfold was torn from my eyes almost as swiftly as it had been put there. He smiled at me.

'You know, you bleed really well for a thirteen year old.'

He grabbed my face, ran his tongue up either side pushed me back to the ground, then turned around and walked away. His gang followed. One of them actually yawned. It seemed that tonight's entertainment was finished.

I have no idea how I managed to get away from there that night. All I remember is that I ran home, packed a bag and ran away. I never saw my parents of sister again. Please don't misunderstand. I loved them all, I really did but I felt so dirty and unclean. I felt unworthy to be in the same room as any one of them. When one has suffered abuse from a group of perpetrators at such a young age, well, it takes a special kind of person to rise above it and live a normal, fulfilled life. You can either go one way or the other. Unfortunately I was not special, well not at that time anyway.

For a few years I carried lived through a heady, downward spiral of self destruction. I ran from respectable Kalm to Wallmarket in Midgar. Wallmarket at that time was ruled by a pimp simply known as Don. I later heard that Don Corneo, who was to inherit the wall market empire a few years later, calls himself Don as a tribute to his predecessor- but that's another story.

Naturally as a young girl who clearly had severe issues, it was inevitable that I found myself working as a prostitute. I was rather good at it. I was young, naive and in any case had developed an impressive drinking problem two months after I left Kalm. Promiscuity became my very existence for living. It gave me an identity.

The other girls were kind to me. They had similar backgrounds although my story was certainly one of the most brutal tales they'd heard for a while. They taught me how to fight and how to steal. Many of them had been attacked .I lived in the famous Honeybee Inn with the others. I worked three days out of seven. I was told that I was one the highest earners. This gave me little pride but a wallet full of expendable cash which I spent on material goods and of course alcohol to numb my pain.

I was about fifteen years of age when my life changed forever. Two major events happened within a few days of each other.

The first event took place when I was at work. One of my clients had came into the inn unexpectedly and was asking for me. Naturally I went to him only to find that he had requested the best room the Inn had to offer. This in itself was nothing unusual, many clients felt the need to splash out occasionally but in the time I had known him, he had never booked the best room. In any case, I accompanied him into the beautifully decorated suite. Champagne was chilling on ice. I was quite taken with the interior so much so that I didn't hear what he was saying initially.

'Will you help me Princess?'

He always called me that. Turns out he was up to his eyeballs in debt. He owed money to everybody. The gangsters were coming for him and they were going to kill him. But he had a plan. He had swallowed close onto thirty Viagra tablets and wanted to 'utilise my services' one last time. He figured he'd have a heart attack in the middle of it anyway. He just didn't want me to be too scared. I said I'd help him because, at the end of the day, I figured he was just another client. He died three minutes in.

The second thing was more peculiar still. I was in the wall market bar with another one of the Honeybees, getting extremely drunk, when I heard some kind of commotion at the bar. I turned round and my gaze fell on the man standing at the bar. I knew him, yet I couldn't tell where I knew him from. The booze was making my memory sluggish. I rose out of my chair and made my way over to the bar. Just when I was three quarters of my way there, the man picked a bottle off the bar countertop and smashed it over the barman's head. The blood started to boil in my veins. The barman was a friend of mine. Just who did this prick think he was?

I picked up a glass that was idling by and smashed it, right to the back of his head. He whipped round and I saw his face close up. I recognised him immediately as one of the gang from Kalm. His eyes widened in shock.

'I…I…thought you were dead!'

'No. You wished I was.'

A savage fury took hold of me. I grabbed a bottle and smashed it on the side of the bar. I beckoned him to attack me. He looked terrified and refused to move. With a scream of years of repression and pent up fury, I attacked him. I slashed at his face until it was nothing but a bloody pulpy mess. I could hear screams all round me, mostly egging me on but now and again I heard a cry to stop. But I couldn't. Bloodlust consumed me completely and before I knew it, I had stabbed him in the chest and he fell to the ground. I jumped on top of him and continued to plunge the broken glass into him. Until someone lifted me off. I heard gasps all around and suddenly the crowd that had gathered, dispersed immediately.

I felt strong arms around my waist, carrying me to the nearest table. They place me into a chair and my head sinks onto the table top. My sense of reason is returning now with almost crystal like clarity. I have just killed someone. Albeit, someone who would've killed me if roles were reversed. But this is a new level of shame. It's all very well to sleep with men for money and then to erase the memory by consuming almost my own body weight in sake, but I fear this might be a memory that I can't let go of.

'So…you killed him.'

I raise my head and look at who has spoken. He is a tall man with dark, dark skin wearing a blue suit. His eyes are covered by a pair of what looks like, designer shades. Although, I wonder how he is managing to see in this murky, gloomy bar. He sits at the table with a bottle of sake and two cups. He pours us each a cup and says nothing more. I figure I should answer him, it seems only polite.

'Yes, I killed him. I didn't mean to but…'

'Why?'

'Because when I was thirteen, he and six of his friends brutally abused and raped me.'

'…'

We said nothing for a while after that. We sipped our sake in silence. He never took his eyes off me and not for a second did I stop looking at him.

'I know you.' I said, finally after an incomprehensible stretch of silence. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

'You're Shinra aren't you? The Investigation Division of the Department of General Affairs. The Turks'

'You're well informed.'

'Most of your colleagues are customers to the Inn. They tip the best so it's natural that we remember who they are. Plus, men say such foolish things in the heat of passion.'

'…'

More sake drinking. I said nothing. I figure it's time for him to do the talking.

'Well…I have an offer for you.'

I raise my eyebrows and say nothing.

'You're wanted for murder. That guy was a Shinra employee and the people of the slums have to be made an example of, on occasion.'

I still say nothing, but in my mind, I'm panicking. I'm wanted for murder and I've heard what they do to girls like me in prison. My first experience of non consensual sex would pale into insignificance if I become incarcerated.

'So, my offer is as follows. If you join Shinra, you will be given a full pardon, but you must work for the company for a minimum of ten years.'

'Work for Shinra?'

'…Yes'

'Where would I work…I mean what department?'

'Normally I would suggest a secretarial position. However, seeing how you disposed of that man, Well, I'd recommend that you are fast tracked to Turk training.'

My eyes widened in shock. This man was offering me a chance to become like him. Respected and feared. Possessor of such skills that people in the slums only dared whisper about. The possibilities were endless.

'I'll do it.'

The man looked at me and smiled.

'I thought you would.' He held out his hand. 'Rude.'

I grasped it and smiled. 'Elena.'