It seemed like eternity until the train was empty. The last pair got off. They seemed pretty scary to her, piercings and dirt, so she figured it was best to be invisible to them. Now that she was finally alone, she got enough courage to stand up, no idea of where the hell she was.

"Please, leave the train," a creepy robotic voice said, adding that this was the last stop. She did as she was told, frankly glad she could move without being pushed somewhere. As soon as she stepped out, the underground closed its doors and disappeared.

She was left in a place she would hardly ever have entered if she had a choice.

It was disgusting here. That smell of urine caused her to gag. Insulting graffiti was sprayed all over the walls. If they, at least, tried to make it look good! The tiling on the walls was broken anyway, so half of the dirty signs weren't readable. Somehow that made them less insulting to her. Fragments of the walls laid beneath the holes in dust. She spotted a few needles–she doubted a doctor was there to have used them. She felt goosebumps when she noticed a centralised splatter of blood on one of pillars supporting the ceiling. The dark trail was running down the wall and although the one who was shot here a long time ago,according to the dark brown shade of the stain, she could see where the person fell–a big puddle of dry blood made it apparent.

She wanted to know where she was. The sign which held the name of the station was, nonetheless, gone long ago. There was just a lighter piece of wall where the letters were supposed to be, left undecypherable in the dust and dirt.

Sarah wasted no time finding the stairs. All she wanted was to escape from here.

As she rushed to the exit, stepping on every second stair in her quick sprint, two voices brought her to an immediate stop. Suddenly, she felt the need to turn around and hide. She listened to her instincts and quickly hid behind an overfilled trash bin. Flies were buzzing around her, annoying her, and the smell made her feel dizzy. She felt like throwing up. Who'd care if she did–it would be barely noticeable in the rubbish that surrounded her. She tried to breathe as little as possible, wishing she didn't have to breathe at all.

Soon, two men appeared where she was only a minute ago. Sarah was glad she decided to hide. The men's appearance brought to mind words like kidnapping, rape and murder. Sarah didn't dare to move or breathe as she listened to what they were saying.

"Hey, so you heard 'bout that fight tomorrow?" asked the one who seemed less scary to her, an ascetic body type, when he made sure no one was in sight to listen to them.

"Ha, I've made a bet. Fifty quid on Ed." answered the other one, a skinhead whose bare skin was covered with countless tattoos. Under his eye, an inked tear was apparent. She wondered who on Earth would let anyone else put a needle that close to their eye.

"Smart enough," the ascetic agreed, "sure Ed will beat the shit outta that rookie!"

"Are they fucking the beans in the basement again?"

Sarah was confused. She didn't understand a thing.

"Sure, man, as always." The ascetic might have said more but was interrupted.

"Oi! Are you FUCKING lost?" the skinhead shouted. "What do you want here you business twat?!"

Sarah noticed a man in a nice suit and tie standing on the stairs. He seemed terrified and she didn't have to wonder why. The skinhead made two quick steps closer to him, his voice still raised "You think everything belongs to you, huh? Just cuz that fucking suit! Fucking businessmen!"

He ran toward the poor stunned man and without a single ounce of warning, he punched him. Fresh blood covered the floor as the skinhead continued beating the man, whose body fell. Sarah was consternated, her throat suddenly dry and her hand growing sweaty.

"Leave him, man, stop it." The ascetic made his buddy stop, possibly saving a life. "Go home. See ya here tomorrow. Let's see if Ed stops."

Skinhead stepped away. "Fucking rich people. Hate them!"

"Yeah, we all do, mate. Let's go."