Maya

　　I limp after Arvin, ignoring the burning pain between my two legs. Blood is trailing down my inner thigh, and I pick up my tattered, frilly dress in a rush. I don't care if it's ruined, and without a second thought, I wipe the red liquid from my leg and then struggle to get my head through the hole of the half-massacred fabric.

　　"Are you coming?" Arvin asks.

　　I press my lips together. The fight is no longer going on outside in the ballroom. I'm ...