Jess was almost asleep when her phone rang. She rolled over in her bed, frowning at the number she didn't recognise. 'Err... hello?" Jess said. "Jess, it's me, Cat, I need to see you--" "Cat? Wh—what's wrong?" Jess asked, sitting up in her bed and turning on the light. There was something in the girl's voice. Something worrying. 'She sounds like Annabelle,' Jess realised. "Please can I come over? I know it's late," Cat asked. "Erm," Jess looked over at the alarm clock. The little green dial read 10:38 but it was a Friday night and her parents were at a charity function to raise money for the town's library. "Yeah, sure." Cat lived a few streets away. Back in the old days she would sneak over in the night and climb through the window. Today she rang the doorbell like any other visitor. 

** Authors note: If you are following this story and enjoy it, please do leave a review to let me know! ** Belle opened her emails to find her Course Tutor had sent her three messages. The first and second asked if everything was okay. The third inquired as to whether she was still intending to complete her studies. "I have to go into University today," Belle spoke up quietly, fearing his response. He was searching for a book, pulling clothes and empty crisp wrappers from under his bed. Breathing heavily, he paused his search to face her. "What?" "I, erm, I'm going to get kicked off my course if I don't go to Uni today," Belle told him. "So?" he asked before continuing to search. "Bingo!" he smiled, pulling the book from a drawer. "You could ditch school for a day and come with me?" Belle offered in a

Jess waited at the school gates for Damien until the bell rang. The wind whipped her long hair around her face as she stood up on her tiptoes, scanning the streets for any sign of him. Resigning herself to the fact he wasn’t going to show, she followed the other stragglers inside, taking her phone out to text him. "Phone!" the Vice Principal barked. Jess hung her head and put it back in her pocket, hurrying to class under the watchful eye of the authoritarian Vice. Her usual seat in the science lab was at the back and in the corner, the farthest—and safest—point from her fellow students. Today, Ricky grabbed her arm and pulled her toward his bench on the second row. "Sit," he demanded in a tone that reminded her of Damien. 'I'm not your dog,' Jess thought, yet she sat without putting up any argument. "What the fuck is going on?" Ric

Sammy cracked his knuckles as he waited at the school gate for the bell. Both his mother and sister hated this habit, so when they weren't around it became worse. "You'll get arthritis," Mike warned. Sammy flashed him a sour look. "Spell arthritis." He felt a buzz of satisfaction as Damien chuckled and Mike's cheeks reddened. It was cruel, picking on the boy's lack of academic ability, and a rather cheap shot by all accounts. Still, it was nice to be the bully rather than the victim. Damien had his slave girl on a leash as usual. The other students had almost completely stopped gawking and commenting on it. Poor Belle was just part of the school scenery now, like the kid with the skin condition and the guy with the bright ginger afro. Sensing his attention, she looked up with misty, dead eyes. Her cheeks were drawn and pale, as though Damien had been starving her. He noticed how

Jess searched for a bell or a knocker before making a fist and pounding on the wood. She heard fumbling inside before the guy answered. "You must be Ricky and Jess," he said, opening the door wide to let them enter. "He's like an older Damien," she whispered to Ricky, seeing the guys hairstyle, black clothing, and piercings. "Thank you for agreeing to see us," Jess said. "We really appreciate it." "Oh no, don't thank me. I'm intrigued by what you told me. Would you like a drink?" "Black coffee, no sugar," Ricky said without a moment’s hesitation. Jess shook her head out of politeness but immediately regretted it when she realised a tea would be nice. She was both thirsty and in dire emotional need. Nothing put her at ease quite like a good cuppa. "Are you sure?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "Please don't say no out of politeness."