THE SHOW BEGINS, AS THE terror I shut behind the scenes fades along with any comfort I had felt. I don't speak as I walk with them, I only stare dead on the empty hall. I felt bile rise from the pits of my stomach and threaten to make an appearance. Oh, what would unravel if I hadn't pushed it back down with the little dignity I had left. I didn't think of it further, focusing only on the end.

"What's with the frown, Avia?" Comes a taunting voice from my left, a voice I knew better than my own. I could already picture her eyes crinkling at the slightest as she said it and how her impossibly soft lips curled into a smirk. Lana Reine's voice is delicate, more delicate than the silence that had came when I didn't answer. I don't spare her glance. I just keep walking, but she's next to me, they all are.

"Look at me, when I speak to you," She whispers against my ear. Her soft, condescending lips brush against my ear, causing me to shiver. She doesn't pull away, yet somehow I can't find the strength in me to deny her. I feel her rose lips linger, before she pulls away. I inhale slowly, before meeting her warm brown eyes. Warm, the last thing I'd use to describe her. Mascara heightens her cat-like features, reminding me of how many times I've stared at her. The small beauty mark next to her eye is so small, it's almost inconceivable to see with the naked eye.

But, I saw.

I saw it all.

"Sorry," I mutter letting go of her eye contact, growing more uncomfortable by the second. That's when she starts laughing, they all do. Their poisonous sirens ringing in my ear like an old tune.

"Relax, it was a joke." A joke, it was always a joke. I release a laugh from the cage I had been forced into, letting my teeth sink into the inside of my cheek.

We soon pass the west corridor, almost there.

Everyone at Saint Cecilia School for Girls, or just Saint Cecilia, is gone by this point. I wish I could say they same. All four of us continue to walk in sync, as if it we were walking in some teen movie, but this is no teen movie.

It's reality, one I can't escape.

The flush of fresh air soon runs to me like open arms, as my feet connect to the parking lot pavement. Jolene unlocks her prized possession, a white Range Rover she loved more than the father who gave it to her, and her conniving eyes begin to shine brightly.

My skin soon became a mountain range, as I feel Lana's arm wrap itself around my waist. Her fingers rubbing the fabric of my uniform and wrecking havoc in my stomach. I'm trapped, I know it. I'm locked in between her designer perfume and how slowly time seemed to tick by.

"Reed's hosting a party on friday, you guys in?" Ahmaya Osumi pipes in excitedly, and I'm fairly certain she's gotten drunk in Reed Weller's house more times than she's been to church. And I certainly didn't want to be in her presence when she drank, heaven forbid she even touch a bottle of Hennessy. Ahmaya wasn't herself when she was in it's company. I bite deeper into my cheek at the flash of memories.

"Definitely, all the Saint Ambrose boys will be there and everyone knows they have the biggest dicks in the city," Jolene answers, even biting her lip in emphasis. Before I answer, Lana's hand sinks lower. Her hand is now resting on my ass, causing tears to prick my eyes. I want to scream, but nothing comes out.

As I get drawn deeper into Lana's current, the more desperate I am to find an escape. "I think I'm going to walk home, the weather's nice today," I state, making sure my voice doesn't crack in the slightest. I can't afford to show anymore weakness.

"Do whatever you want, I honestly don't give a fuck," Jolene remarks hopping into the driver's seat of her car. Ahmaya looks at Lana's hand, and I see something flicker in her midnight eyes. She looks in almost regret. But, whatever I saw is gone in the blink of an eye and is replaced with a smirk on her Asian features. She says nothing while getting into the passenger seat. It's only Lana and I left standing outside of the car, fifteen feet away from the sidewalk I wanted to be on.

"Get in the car, Avia." Lana's voice is suggestive, meaning to prepare myself. Her hand is off of me, but I knew it wouldn't be for long. I knew what was bound to happen in the car, I knew they'd do nothing but crank up the music as Jolene drove.

Lana has her urges and as the good little whore I am, I oblige.