Two gleaming blades move. A sea of blood pours from my chest then from the sad eyes above me. The pain is excruciating, magnified by confusion and youth.

Inhaling sharply, my hands clutch my chest. There's no cut, no blood. A shard of light from under the closed door just about illuminates the outlines of furniture placed around the room as well as the lumps of Orla and Sienna who lay either side of me.

It was a nightmare. One I haven't had in a while because it was replaced by a different nightmare from a later traumatic experience when the use of my blade ended up being fatal.

"Cady, are you awake?" Sienna asks.

"Yes," I say quietly. I inhale deeply then I ask a question I always wondered the answer too but never had the opportunity too. "What happened to her?"

"From what I was told, she was passed on to a different establishment."

"And her eyes?" I whisper.

"She went blind," Sienna says. I shudder and she hastily adds, "She deserved it if the story I heard was true."

"She told me it was for my own good so I would never have to live a life like hers. She seemed to think if she took away something that represented me growing into a woman, it would somehow stop me from ending up in the same place as her." My clothing sticks to my clammy body, my mouth feels dry as my hand reaches under my top and my finger traces the crescent-shaped scar hidden in the crease of my left breast. It doesn't feel any different to the surrounding skin, even in bright light and knowing where to look it's hard to make out; that doesn't stop me from feeling nauseous every time I remember what happened five years ago.

Sienna inhales deeply. "So it's true, about her trying to cut your breasts off?"

"She tried, not that there was much to cut off at the age of twelve," I force a chuckle but it sounds like I'm choking. "I managed to stop her before any real damage was done."

My mind replays the horrific images. Her slicing at my left breast and me lashing out with my blade. The feel of it slicing into her eyes was horrible. The knife slid through them so easily like they were softly boiled eggs. Instead of yolk, warm metallic red liquid poured from the large open wounds. The horrendous screaming had alerted Hana, who came running in to find me clutching my blood-soaked chest and the woman clutching her face as the possibility of her ever being able to see poured out of her eyes. Trembling, I had refused to show Hana the wounds and demanded she drop me back home immediately.

My mum had stitched me up with no medication. I had cried and screamed until I realised it made no difference. Complaining didn't make the pain go away and it didn't reverse what had happened. I realised quickly there was no point in making a fuss.

Me and my mum left that night and moved to another city. From that day on, I learnt to be more wary, to never take people on face value because people are changeable and untrustworthy.

"That's all sorts of messed up. She's lucky she only lost her sight. She deserved a lot worse," Sienna says angrily.

"Or maybe, she deserved better from the start." Now, I feel sorry for the woman who had approached me with large sad eyes because I understand a bit of what she feels. She was forced to live a life she didn't ever want due to circumstances beyond her control. Even at twelve, I could sense her distress and her loneliness which is why I followed her when she called me.

I force away the memories and hold back the tears. "We should go back to sleep. We don't want to be told off by Wes, he was adamant about getting plenty of rest for tomorrow's punishing schedule."

"You're right. He's definitely going to whip us into shape. Personally, I can think of more fun and enjoyable ways to get fit but when I suggested it to Wes he shot me down."

"I wonder why." I chuckle. "My whole body hurts after today and all we did was run. Surely, if we're dressing as labour camp prisoners we should be starving ourselves and trying to look weak not bulking ourselves up. Not, that I'm even going to be exiting the truck."

"He's just preparing us for the worst, in case we need to run. He's determined to show the whole world what The State have been doing in those camps and he believes these two people will help do that," Sienna says. "Considering I've only known him for about three weeks, I already think of him like a brother. Wes is definitely one of the good guys. When I doubt myself, he reminds me of my worth; he accepts what I've done and the choices I've made just like you do. Whereas Orla and Max disapprove of where I've been and what I've done. I see it in their faces every time I mention it."

"They've not experienced that side of society, that's all. And let's face it, your stories about your clients are beyond crude. I've noticed you purposely bring them up when the two of them are around. You love trying to see how much you can freak them out, especially Max."

"I can't help it. They're both so judgemental about it all. Max is obvious about it but I've seen Orla and the looks she gives me. I'd like to see her have to choose between a sweaty old man, labour camp or an illegal establishment of 'debauchery' because if it happened to me again, I'd still make the same choice I did back then."

"Well, that's why we're doing this, so people don't have to be forced into making those choices in the future." I sigh.

"Hana used to tell us we could save up and eventually buy our way out. Quite a few of the older ones did then I found out it was all lies and they were just transferred to another place. Hana only said it to keep us compliant and hopeful." Sienna huffs. "Then I found out The State knew we were there. They knew all of those places existed and it made me so angry. I'd always blamed my ex-fiancé but it wasn't really his fault, it's the Officials, the whole system. That was my drive to saying yes to Jas when he asked me to join this mission."

"What happened to your fiance?"

"He died. His family never told me why, never invited me to the funeral. I got a mark in memory of him." Sienna flicks on the lamp next to her, pulls up her top and shows me several lines of small black scribbles etched along her ribcage. Each line links to a red curving heart. I can't decipher the letters. Grey and Orla never taught me how to read joined-up handwriting.

"I got all my families names written after I left, as well. Now they'll always be close to my heart, no matter how far away they actually are."

"Turn the light off," Orla groans, pulling the blanket over her head.

Sienna chuckles. "Enough of the heavy, we really do need to get back to sleep. I know what Wes is planning for us tomorrow and we are in for a world of pain."

"I can't wait," I say sarcastically as Sienna turns the lamp off plunging us back into near darkness.