Someone was screaming.

Pain lanced through my head as I tried to sit up, black tinted my vision. The air smelled of fire and my eyes burned with the smoke that clogged the air like a thick fog.

Every part of my body ached. My arms and legs were stiff with pain as I tried to push myself up again. The screaming had dulled, but a heavy, still silence hung around me now.

Where was I?

It took a few moments before it came back to me. I was in the woods. My best friend, Hanna, had begged me to come to a bonfire with her. But where was she? Why was I waking up on the ground?

And who had been screaming?

Then, there was a shouting of voices and I saw the glow of flashlight beams as they shined through the forest, flickering beyond the lines of trees.

What was happening?

The voices grew closer, but they were still distorted. The words blended together like mush inside of my skull.

When the lights emerged from the trees, they nearly blinded me.

I lifted my hand to shield my eyes, but leaves and grass stuck to my hand, trapped in something sticky. I brushed the leaves away to reveal the dark red blood that coated my hand. Blood?

I'd dropped it in horror, my eyes glued to it. Where had the blood come from? A quick glance showed my shirt also stained with red and I fought the nausea that rose in my throat.

The voices and lights surrounded me. Pain lanced through my head again.

"Put your hands in the air!"

I didn't hesitate to obey. Through the lights, I could see the police uniforms that adorned the figures surrounding me.

"Stand up, slowly."

Again, I did as I was asked, even as the pain grew worse and I swayed on my feet. A pair of hands reached out for me, lacing around my upper arms so tight I was sure they would leave bruises.

"What is your name?" the woman who held me asked me as she began to force me to walk through the woods.

"Selene," I rasped, my throat dry and achy from the smoke that still hung in the air in a heavy curtain. Through the trees, I could still see a glimpse of the bonfire that had burned bright.

It was nearly dead now. Another group of officers stood clustered around the fire, staring down at something I couldn't make out.

The hands on my upper arms were relentless, even as I tripped over the uneven ground.

"You'll be coming to the station with us, Selene," the officer who held me said. "We have some questions for you."

I nodded dumbly, still watching through the trees. A camera light flashed and I thought I saw a person on the ground, eerily still.

What had happened? Why was I covered in blood? Why were the police here? My head throbbed.

Out of the line of trees, too many police cars to count, all with their lights flashing, waited. Several officers buzzed around, talking into their radios.

When they saw our group emerge out of the trees, eyes watched, curious. But no one approached as I was led into a police car and guided into the backseat.

The woman never bothered to turn off her flashing lights as she made her way back onto the main road and into town, toward the station. Out the window, I could see people peeking out of their windows, watching us as we passed by. I was glad for the dark window tint that allowed me to stay out of view.

In a small Midwestern town like Haxville, rumors spread like wildfire.

The drive into the heart of town was silent, save for the police radio that crackled to life occasionally. I tried to listen a time or two, but they spoke too much code for me to decipher anything useful.

When we arrived at the station, I was allowed to enter on my own. The officer didn't try to grab me again. Maybe she'd realized that I wasn't going to run. I hadn't fought her in the woods.

Inside, the lights were blazingly bright. Blinking several times, I tried to take in everything around me, but I was guided out of the main entry too quickly. A hallway held several doors, each labelled with small engraved signs.

PROCESSING was the room I was led into. Several people, wearing lab coats and gloves, waited for us. On the table behind them, bags and other items sat.

The door was shut behind us and the officer planted herself in front of it.

One of the lab coats approached first. She gestured to my clothes and hands.

"Is that your blood?"

I stared down at myself. "I don't know." Everyone in the room exchanged glances, but said nothing. The tension said that they didn't believe me, but that was my truth. I didn't know what happened to me.

A gash was in the front of my shirt, where the most blood was concentrated, but there was no wound underneath to signify if the blood was mine or not.

"Go ahead and strip off all those clothes."

Nervous to be nude in front of people, I hesitated. But the woman in the lab coat gave a sympathetic look. "I know it's awkward, but we're all girls here. And we have clothes for you to change into."

On the table, a folded shirt and pair of pants waited. I breathed a sigh of relief, then tugged my shirt over my head. It was stiff from dried blood.

Once my shirt was off, one of the women in the lab coats gasped.

"Are those bruises?"

At first, I thought she was talking about my arms, but no bruises had formed on my skin from the officer's handling of me in the woods. Instead, with a sinking stomach, I glanced toward my abdomen.

Under the dried blood, which was flaking off my skin, bruises in varying shades of healing lay across my stomach. The most noticeable of them was along my ribs and it was nearly black, with lighter purple and blue edges.

"Was that from tonight?" The officer asked. She'd stepped around to see the damage for herself. Her gaze was solely on the marks across my skin.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

"Where are they from?"

My already parched throat went as dry as the desert. I'd tried to tell people before, but no one had ever listened. Did I dare to tell them now, when the evidence graced my skin?

"My step-father doesn't like me very much."

"Your step-father did this to you?" She sounded doubtful and I wanted to roll my eyes.

"Yes. I was two minutes past my curfew the other night. He didn't take the news very well."

The officer took a minute to process, before stepping away from me and toward the door again. When nothing else was said, I yanked down my ripped jeans, before tossing them to the waiting woman with the lab coat.

More bruises laced down my legs, but no one said another word about them. It was obvious it had been a mistake to tell them, but there was no taking back the words I'd already said.

Once my clothes were bagged, they picked up a camera. "We do need a few pictures of the marks on your skin."

Feeling embarrassed, I let them take their pictures, wanting nothing more than to be done with this. I wasn't even sure why I was here.

After they were done, they handed me the clothes that sat on the table. I was allowed to dress, but they weren't done with me yet.

"We need a swab of your cheek and some of your blood."

I eyed the needle in the woman's hands nervously. I'd never been a fan of needles.

"Don't you need my parent's permission for this stuff?"

The officer cleared her throat. "Your mother has given her permission for whatever tests are necessary."

Having nothing else to say, I let them continue with their tests.