Chapter 3 - by Sugar Faerie

Madonna

My heart skips a beat as I see Charlotte hit the ground. I don't want to see... I can't look. I don't want to see her screaming with pain.

I need her to be strong, because if she's not, I'll never be.

The guards haul me along the corridor, not giving me a chance to stop. My face is still bleeding, and I feel the blood roll down my throat and drip onto my shoulder. It's warm, and seems to burn my skin. I didn't realise how deep the cut was.

They lead me to another cell, one at the end of the corridor. The door slides open, and to my horror I see two more policemen standing there, nasty smiles on their faces.

My blood turns to ice as I realise what they're going to do.

A policeman- SP Charlotte always used to call them- gives me a hard push, and I stumble forward against the chest of the tallest man.

"Well, you have brought a pretty one," he says, grabbing me around the shoulders. His arms are strong, and he holds me so tightly I can barely breathe.

His friend next to him pulls my head back roughly, running his hand over my exposed collarbone. "Nice," he murmurs, his hand travelling lower as he pulls me away from his collegue slightly.

I try and use the chance to break from his embrace, but the second man grabs me around the waist, pinning my arms to my sides.

"Naughty..." he breathes into my ear.

I don't know how it happens, but suddenly I'm on the floor, my head ringing as it comes in fast contact with the cold steel. The first policeman's face looms above me, and suddenly his hand reaches out and touches the gash on my cheek.

He laughes cruelly, and suddenly tears the skin even more with his fingers. It bursts apart while I scream in pain and terror, new blood running onto my face from the freshly opened wound.

He lets some of the blood collected in his hand, then smears it across my mouth. It tastes salty and I splutter with disgust.

He pushes me to the floor even more, and then my nightmare begins.

The other policemen are standing around jeering, waiting their turn.

I want it to stop... oh god, I want it to stop.

Eventually they're finished and they leave me there while they leave the cell laughing. I'm just lying there, broken, crying and vomitting at the same time.

I turn my head slightly, and suddenly have a clear view of the cell opposite me. Beyonce's there, pressed against the glass, her face showing an expression of horror mixed with both pity and disgust.

And then I realise, she must have seen everything.