'Are you sure you'll be fine walking home alone?' Mrs. Miller watched worriedly as Susan neatly stacked a pile of books. 'Mr. Miller could drive you home, my dear. I don't like sending you out alone when it's dark outside.'

Susan smiled at the matronly headmistress. She'd been working at the local primary school over the summer, when the school held open classes for children, and it had been a refreshing diversion from the monotony of her home. She was also eager to escape her family's burdening concern when she finally told them she'd broken it off with James. The salary helped slightly, as she needed to pool together whatever she could save for when she moved to central London in a few months' time.

'I'll be fine, Mrs. Miller. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'Have a good rest, love.' Mrs. Miller held the door open as Susan hefted her weighty satchel. 'I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early.'

Susan waved at the kindly elder woman and made her way home, cutting into a deserted alley in an effort to evade the nighttime drunkards at the pub. She knew James would be there at the pub, along with her no doubt inebriated elder brother. Despite James' wish that they'd remain friends, he had not spoken a single word to her whenever they happened to meet and gossipmongers began spreading tales about how callous Susan Pevensie had broken the poor boy's heart.

Which is true, I suppose, she wondered dejectedly. I am callous when it comes to love. All because I can't forget one boy.

A clattering sound to her left had her jumping in fright and a man staggered up drunkenly from behind a pile of overturned crates.

'Susie!' the man slurred and Susan watched in horror as the dim light from the streetlamps shone on his face. 'I've been waiting for you!'

'James?' She shifted her bag in front of her, already fumbling inside the satchel for a weapon. 'What are you doing here?'

'I told you.' He stopped in front of her and swayed on his feet. His shirt was stained and untucked and Susan shrank away from the unmistakable stench of alcohol. 'I was waiting for you.'

'Why?'

'Why?' he mimicked her. His wide grin exposed his canines, reminding her of the vampires in those old penny dreadfuls. 'Because you can't leave me, Susie!' he shouted. 'You can't just dump me like I'm a- like I'm a common man! I'm James Watts, you see?' He brandished his fists and the bottle in his hand smashed against the wall.

'James, you're drunk. Go home.' Susan whirled around, ready to run, when he gripped a handful of her hair in his fist and pulled, hard. Susan screamed at the burning pain that tore through her scalp.

'You've always thought you were better than any of us, haven't you?' he snarled as he brought her face closer to his. 'You've always looked down your nose at us, at me. Always keeping to yourself because we're not worthy of your time. Isn't that right, Su?'

'No! James, stop-'

'You should be grateful I even paid attention to you, you bitch!' He slammed her against the wall, his fingers closing and squeezing hard around her throat. She choked and clawed desperately at his hands. 'Nobody leaves me, do you hear me, Su? Nobody leaves James Watts!' Susan slammed her knee into his groin and he groaned, falling away enough for her to make her escape.

Forget your bag, Su. Just run! 'Help!' she tried to scream but all that came out of her mouth was a painful whisper. 'Help me!' she tried again and choked on her words when fingers caught on the back of her coat. She was yanked roughly back and slammed down onto the pavement. The flickering streetlights above her danced merrily, mocking her with their freedom, and Susan could barely register the pain behind her head. I've broken something, she thought dizzily. I've broken a lot of things.

The lights were suddenly eclipsed by James, hovering over her with an excited glint in his eyes.

'Thought you got away, Su? Thought you got away from me?' He fisted the hem of her skirt and pulled it up, crudely parting her thighs. 'Don't you understand, Susie? You're mine. I'll make you mine.' She struggled, thrashing against him when the cool night air chilled her bare legs. He growled and slammed his fist into her jaw. 'Stop struggling! You'll like it if you accept it. All the girls do.'

Susan closed her eyes against the pain, against his excited groans and primitive grunts. Tears of pain and revulsion pooled beneath her lashes. His hands groped her flesh and scratched her skin as though she was worth nothing. At that moment, Violet came unbidden into her dulled mind. Her friend Violet who was married with two daughters. Her friend Violet who had confided in her about the wonders of being married, the pleasures of sharing her marriage bed with a loving husband, of their first time together.

No, Susan wanted to wail. It's not supposed to be like this. I'm not supposed to be lying, bleeding in an alley. How did this happen to me? What have I done to deserve this? She could feel him becoming more frantic, his grunts louder now, and Susan found herself begging to the name she has never turned to since she left.

Aslan, please. Please give me strength.

You've always had it, my dear Queen. Her eyes opened at the masterful voice in her head, the voice that breathed light and life into the darkest corners of her mind. Her hands clenched and she twisted her head. Anything you see, Su. Anything can be a weapon. She located a small loose brick on the pavement. James was too involved in his own pleasure and she curled her fingers around it, hefting the weight in her hands.

Now.

She brought the brick down hard on to the back of his head.

'You bitch!' he screeched in pain, clutching his head. Susan saw the rivulets of blood dripping down his arm and she swung her fist into his nose. He stumbled back, colliding into a wall, and Susan stood over him.

'You're James Watts?' She held the brick over the opening in his trousers, over the evidence of his sickening lust. 'I'm Queen Susan of Narnia.' Her fingers released their hold on the brick and she let it fall.

His howl of pain faded behind her as she ran down the alley. Her head spun and fought to shut down, to seek refuge in a corner where she could hide and fall to pieces.

No. I need help. I need someone who'll believe me, who'll know what to do.

Her hands were shaking as the shock of what had happened, what he'd done to her and what she did to him finally struck her. She should've smashed his manhood to pieces, that bastard! She should've used the glass from his beer bottle and cut him off, so he'd never be able to do that to anyone. She should've-

No use thinking about what you should've done. Think about what you need to do now.

Susan hesitated briefly on her feet as she struggled to get her bearings. Home? No, home was too far. She needed help now.

Mrs. Miller! Susan tore down the pathway, breathing heavily against the searing pain that gripped various parts of her body. The Millers lived right next to the school. They'll help me. They'll know what to do. Her feet ached and Susan became convinced that she'd twisted her ankle sometime in the struggle but she soldiered on, hobbling awkwardly when the pain became too unbearable. The school's distinctive entrance came into view, the same entrance she passed through as she left early that evening, without any knowledge of what would happen to her. Susan ran past, clambered up the steps to the Millers' and pounded her fists frantically on the door.

'Mrs. Miller!' she screamed. James had done his work on her throat and she found herself once more fighting to push air through the burning pain.

'What on earth-' she heard Mr. Miller grousing and the door flung open. His shocked eyes took in her bloodied appearance. 'Susan? What the hell happened to you?'

'Mrs. Miller-'

'In here, dear!' Mrs. Miller hurried into the hallway, frantically securing her bedcap. Her eyes widened in horror. 'Susan?'

'James,' she breathed. 'James…attacked me. He was waiting for me when I walked home and he…' She swallowed, shame flooding her at seeing the dawning understanding in Mrs. Miller's eyes. 'Please help me,' she whispered. 'I don't know what to do. I ran away from him and he's-'

'That bloody mongrel!' Mr. Miller snarled. 'Where is he, Susan?'

'The alley, by the grocer's. That's where he found- that's where he was-' She crumpled against the door and sobbed silently.

'Judy, take the poor girl in. I'll get some of the lads together.' He gently nudged Susan into the house. 'Don't worry, dear. We'll catch him.'

Mrs. Miller wrapped an arm around Susan, rubbing her back soothingly. 'I'll ring your parents, tell them you're here. Emily will be worried sick you're not home by now.' Susan let herself be led into a sitting room and sat down, listening absently as Mrs. Miller spoke to her mother on the phone in hushed tones.

'-best you come here…the poor girl's in shock…doctor…'

Doctor? Of course, doctor. A doctor to check if I'm ruined.

Susan collapsed onto the chaise longue, smothering her sobs in her arms. Her entire life was ruined. She was ruined. All of her dreams, her ambitions, they died in that alley. That independent flat in London, sitting at her desk and typing up her latest article at The Times, strolling down Oxford Street with her girlfriends, laughing about some boy or other, a ring on her finger, a beautiful white wedding with her family by her side. Those were all gone. After what he did to her...how could she live? How could she know how to live with this? She thought closing her eyes when James violated her would've made remembering harder. If anything, she recalled the sounds and his revolting touches with great clarity. Her nails dug deep into her skin and Susan clawed desperately at her arms, desperate to clean her skin of his scent and his touch.

'Susan! Goodness! You musn't do that!' Mrs. Miller caught her wrists in her surprisingly strong hands. 'Your mother and Lucy will be coming over soon, love. The doctor will also be coming over, to see if you're alright.'

'Father?' she whispered brokenly.

'Your father's gone with Mr. Miller. As have your brothers.'

Susan closed her eyes and tasted the salt of her tears on her lips. 'I don't want them seeing me like this,' she wept. 'It's shameful and it's revolting! I can still hear him-'

Mrs. Miller enveloped her in her arms, clutching the distraught young woman to her ample chest and her plump arms. 'Don't think about it, Susan. It'll be alright.' Gently, she began rocking her into oblivion, patting her back soothingly. 'It'll be alright, you'll see.' she whispered.