Right, let's continue with this. Thanks for reviewing, Bloodylilcorpse, Elizabeth Fire Ice Heart, and worthless brat (ok, just typing that name makes me feel mean).

At the time, I was wearing one of those horribly degrading outfits. This one was an 'inappropriate schoolgirl' outfit. Zoey was wearing the same thing because, according to Mal, what we had done was something a lot of older girls forced younger ones into in old-fashioned all-girl boarding schools..yeah, apparently he had cameras in the bedroom – no sound, but he could see what we did last night. Yeah, like I believed all of that. If it didn't happen in the girls' cells in juvie (and I would know), not all boarding schools would have girls so desperate for sexual attention.

I also had a vibrator inside me, but I was trying to ignore it. That's when I realized I was standing in the lounge, staring at French windows (with complicated locks, but no bars), so I thought about how long I'd have the chance to smash the window and run.

First, Mal would hear the breaking glass if he was near enough. Luckily, I knew that he was in the almost-soundproof bedroom I shared with Zoey. Since we were both wearing schoolgirl outfits, he wanted to "play school" with Zoey, and he'd be occupied with that for at least another half-hour. No doubt he'd want Zoey and I to play "boarding school lesbian whore" later on...whether an order or not.

The heaviest thing in the lounge was a metal ornament, so I put all my force behind it and hurled it at the glass. It smashed instantly, and although I had to smash a bit more to get a hole big enough for me to fit through, soon, I was running. I was free!
But I had no money, so I would either have to sneak on a bus without paying, or proceed on foot. Luckily, there was a bus stop a few blocks away, and luck seemed to be on my side, since a bus pulled up. I didn't care where it was going, but I sneaked on through the back entrance and flopped down in a seat, sighing.

"Bailey? Is that you?" I looked up at the familiar voice.

It was Cameron. He was smiling shyly at me in the seat opposite. I managed a smile. "Hi, Cameron. So...where are you going?"

"Home." Cameron answered. "It's about...like, twenty minutes away."

At that moment, I didn't care that I was talking to one of my co-stars and wearing a slutty costume. There was just one thing I had to do. "Um...is there a police station near one of the stops on the way?"

Cameron obviously sensed how scared I was, and his face became serious. Then he said "Yeah, I think so. I'll let you know when we get to that stop."

And about eleven minutes later, I left the bus, thanking Cameron. I hadn't told him what happened. I know, I should have. It did involve his two closest friends, after all. But he didn't question my wish to get to a police station or clothes, and I didn't want to volunteer any information.

Luckily, the police station was just around the corner. I ran in and said to the person by the counter breathlessly "I've been...held captive...for about a week...another girl...is still there...escaped asylum patient..."

A policeman came out to talk to me about it after ten minutes. I managed to get out most of the story, about Mike and his personalities, how I'd known about him and Mal since I was fourteen, how now he still had Zoey, about a quarter of an hour away from here. "I smashed the window while I was on my own and got out." I explained. "Zoey's still there."

I'll admit it, I wasn't sure if I'd be believed, but after making a few calls to the mental hospital Mike had been in and getting no answer from Zoey's mobile number (which I gave them), they continued questioning me, and I realized I hadn't really thought through my escape. I told them everything I could, but I couldn't tell them where the house was – only how far away it was, and once they told me where I was now, I could guess the bus route.

That was the key – the bus route. While the police got into action, I was told that I'd be contacted to clarify everything once they found the house. I had to give them a description of both Mal and Zoey.

"Mal is tall and thin, around my age," I told them, "With spiky hair that covers one of his eyes and dark marks around them. He's very tanned. But sometimes he does use hairspray to keep his hair out of his eyes and puts on a different voice to make people think that he's Mike. But the only thing Mal can't disguise are the marks under his eyes. Zoey's about the same size as me...possibly a little taller. She has scarlet hair and wears aquamarine earrings, and she has brown eyes."

Once I'd given them the description of Mal, they asked me if I had any more information, so I explained to them how he'd been at the same juvenile detention center as me. Of course, they were able to look at the files from that time, and I identified the younger Mal easily.

Then I was finally allowed to go home, so I called Duncan from the station (although I had to ask where exactly I was first).

I had to call twice, but Duncan answered on the second ring on my second time. "Hello?"

"Duncan, it's me!" I said.

"Bailey? What happened to you? And where are you?"

I told him. "I've been locked up for the last week." I said. "Can you come collect me? I'm not comfortable with being on my own right now."

I heard Duncan mutter something inaudible. Then he said "I'll be there in half an hour. But I'm not coming into the station, and I'm going to leave the motorbike around the corner." (Yes, he drove a motorcycle). Just check out in half an hour and I'll be waiting outside."

"Bring my helmet, okay?" I said. "And my leather stuff. The outfit I was forced to wear is ridiculously skimpy and I can't ride with that being all I'm wearing."

"Okay, Diamond, but don't start getting all bossy with me. Love you."

"Love you, too."

To be honest, although I'd always thought Duncan was really really hot, he'd never looked as good as he did that day when I saw him again. I instantly just ran to him, and he spun me around.

"I thought I might never get to see you again." I whispered.

"I sort of guessed what had happened," Duncan admitted. "When I woke up one morning and you were gone. There was no trace left of you – Mal obviously thought he was so cool that there was no point in making out you'd chosen to leave." His tone was bitter. "So, the outfit?" He eyed it. "Okay, so that was the kind of thing you had to wear? Don't get me wrong, I love it on you, but even I wouldn't force a girl to wear it during the day."

I shrugged. "Cheerleading, prison stripes, stripper outfit...take your pick. They were the only clothes he let Zoey and I wear."

It was a relief to get the story out to someone. That night was one of the best ever.

So yes, Bailey is home and dry. Mostly. But Zoey? The nightmare isn't over yet.