Goosebumps pricked on my skin, hairs rose and a cold sweat dampened my palms.

My eyes flicked nervously back and forth between Lars’ cold, narrow gaze and the packet of Polaroid photos that he was holding out in front of him, displaying them as if they were some sort of perverse trophy.

How did he know about those photos? Would he really show them to Lela? What did he want from me? How was I going to get them back?

My mind was swimming with thoughts and questions, I had to calm down, I had to focus on what was happening. I had to find a way out of this situation, out of the corner that Lars had backed me into.

“Please Lars,”, my voice came out just a little too high, just a little too strained with emotion. Swallowing hard, I tried to steady myself, “let me have those photos back. Lela was a friend to you as well, you couldn’t hurt her like this, could you?”.

For a fleeting moment something seemed to change in his eyes, the hardness seemed to melt away. A thoughtfulness perhaps? But the moment passed quickly, whatever it was, it was gone within a blink and replaced with that same cold, emotionless nothing that had been there before.

“WAS, Heidi! She WAS my friend” those words came slowly, deliberately, a sneer touching the corners of his mouth.

“She never did anything to you,” I pleaded with him, “she never hurt you in any way”, and it was true. She had never once uttered even the slightest insult, never cast a stone or landed a blow. While I was at the front, shouting, encouraging the others in their cruel abuse of Lars, Lela would be stood at the edge of the group, her expression unreadable.

I had hoped that might strike a chord in him, awaken some sort of compassion but my hopes were in vain, he just looked me directly in the eyes and started to laugh, a cold, grating laugh.

“She didn’t do anything to me, but she didn’t help me either, did she? Was she ever really MY friend? She's just as responsible as the rest of you, complicit by her inaction!”, Lars spat those words at me, spat them with a sort of vicious hatred that I’d never seen in him before, never imagined possible from him.

Something in his tone grated on my nerves. What right did he have to speak about Lela like this? Maybe it was the sudden flare of passion in his eyes, replacing that icy nothingness. It stirred something inside of me.

I wasn’t prepared to stand for this, not from Lars of all people.

My body tensed, I curled my hands into tight fists. The sharp pain of my long, pink painted nails biting into my palms felt in some way satisfying. My knuckles turned white as an anger began to rise in me like an inferno, starting in my stomach it rose to engulf me. My jaw tightened, eyes narrowing to glare to Lars.

“Lars, you give me back those photos now and we’ll pretend this never happened.”, my voice was dark, full of an implied threat.

He just looked back at me, his face blank, devoid of all emotion and feeling. The anger that I’d seen in him a few moments ago had been replaced, a return to that cold, emotionless mask.

The way he looked at me, the sheer contempt in his eyes, a cocky confidence coming from a belief that he held all of the cards. Something inside me snapped.

A scream flooded from deep within my chest. No words, just a loud, shrill, primal scream. How dare he do this? How dare he steal something so personal and private? How dare he threaten me? How dare he talk so calmly of hurting Lela?

I surged forward from my corner of the kitchen, I ran at him. My feet slipping slightly on that tiled floor, across the room, rounding the old oak table, towards Lars I bolted.

He just sat there, watching my charge. I don’t remember his expression, everything was a blur of red, the sound of my heart beat loudly in my ears. I rounded the table. My fists clenching tighter. I approached Lars but I never reached him.

It was a brutal strike. He moved in a blur of motion, striking, driving the heel of his hand, hard into the centre of my chest with a dull thud. I gasped as the air was forced from my lungs, searing pain spreading outwards from my sternum.

I stumbled backwards, my feet losing their grip on the smooth tiles. Yellow, twinkling stars exploded into my vision and my ears rang, a high pitched whine as I struck the hard ground. My head slammed into the cold, tiled floor with a crack, sending a sharp jolt through my skull. The kitchen seemed to spin around me in a nauseating blur. The metallic scent of blood filed my nostrils.

What had just happened? My senses were muddled.

A jolt of sharp pain shot up my arm from my elbow as I lay on the floor, wincing in agony. The crushing sensation in my chest made it impossible to move. I lay there unable to speak, gasping for the breath that had just been knocked out of me.

Finally, my head started to clear. I managed to bring my breathing under some sort of control. Blinking the shocked tears out of my eyes, I looked up. Standing there, towering over me stood Lars. Looking down at me, his expression lacking any sign of emotion.

I tried to pull myself up but my injured elbow gave way with a searing jolt. At that moment I realised how helpless I was, how I was totally at his mercy.

I flinched, pulling myself into a protective ball as Lars pulled his foot back, preparing to kick.

He laughed manically as his foot stopped, poised just centimetres from my face, “What’s the matter, Sister Dearest?”, his eyes narrowing, lips tightening as he spoke, “You didn’t think that I would have kicked you while you’re down, did you? I’m not some sort of monster, you know?”, a chuckle escaped his lips again, amused by his own words. Words that were edged with sarcasm, a stark reminder to me of the times that I had done exactly that to him. A passing kick while he lay defenceless on the ground.

As I look back now, I realise that this was the moment when everything changed.

“What do you want from me, Lars”, my voice shook, the tone breaking as I tried so desperately to hold back the tears.

“Now that’s the question, isn’t it? I can think of a few things.”, his voice took on a new tang, an almost hungry edge. At that moment something flashed across his eyes, something dark, a darkness even deeper than what had been there before. I shivered, as if I’d had a bucket of ice water thrown over me.

My whole body shuddered, that look in his eyes seemed hauntingly familiar. Tugging at some distant memory that I couldn’t quite place.

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“But for the time being, why don’t you just scurry off upstairs to your room. I think it’d be a kind, sisterly thing to let me have the house to myself for a few hours, don’t you?”

I was in no place to argue with him. Wiping away the tears from my eyes and trying to regain some form of dignity, I attempted to pull myself to me feet. Despite my body aching from the fall, my elbow protesting at the slightest weight, I managed to stand.

My head was a jumble of thoughts and emotions as I left that kitchen. I struggled to piece together what had just happened. My brother, usually so meek and cowed, me usually so haughty and superior. At least that was how I had seen things up until a few minutes ago. Now everything had changed. When had Lars become so cold? Had this been gradually building in him and I just hadn’t noticed? How had he known about those photos? Perhaps he’d just been looking for something to use against me and got lucky?

All those thoughts and questions were spinning around inside my head, tumbling over on top of each other as I reached my bedroom door.

I pushed the door open and allowed myself a slight smile, the familiarity of my room gave me a small sense of comfort. The pastel pink walls, the pink curtains, my bed…

A sudden movement, a dark shape rising quickly from my bed instantly pushed aside those thoughts and brought me back to the present with a start.

Bella startled awake from where she lay, curled up in the middle of my bed. She lifted her head and fixed those deep, dark eyes on me. Her tail, gently wagging back and forth.

I kicked my shoes off into the corner of the room and dashed across the soft, carpeted floor towards my bed. As soon as I reached Bella, I threw my arms around her neck. Her soft, black fur was warm and comforting against my cheek, her gentle breath, panting in my ear seemed to keep time with the rhythm of my frantic heart, beating in my chest.

It was only then, with my face buried into Bella’s neck did I allow those tears, which in front of Lars, I had been trying hard to hold, to finally start flowing.

They were tears of fear, the fear of my brother, the fear of what he might do. I had never seen that look in his eyes before, it had been like looking into the eyes of a beast and it terrified me. At that moment in time, under all the confusion that I had spinning in my mind, I never could have imagined the lengths that Lars would go to, the depths of depravity that he was capable of descending into.

There were also tears of shame and guilt. The memory of that night with Asmund flashed through my mind. Of Lela’s friendly smile, the laughs, the warm embrace we shared as I left the party, Asmund by my side. Up until then I hadn’t really given all that much thought to what had happened between us. I’d brushed it aside, it wasn’t the first or the last time that Asmund had been unfaithful to Lela and if I had ever really thought about it at all, I think that I just blamed it on him. It was just another indiscretion on his part. That was how I had seen many things at the time. I blamed others, unwilling to take any responsibility for my actions.

But I was equally to blame, I had been flirting with him at the party and while I may not remember now who made the first move back at his house, I certainly didn’t raise any objections when things started to go further.

Now it was time for me to take responsibility, time for me to pay the dear price for my actions.

“Oh, Bella what have I done? How could I do that to her?”, I sobbed softly burying my face into Bella’s fur.

The big german shepherd looked at me, from the look in her eyes I was convinced that she knew something of what was going on, there was a look of sadness and sympathy in that face. Her long, wet tongue drew across my cheek. A simple show of affection from a dog to a human but it was exactly what I needed. As Bella continued licking me, her tongue seemed to wash away some of the dread in my heart. It was comforting.

My thoughts turned back to Lela’s party that evening. I really wasn’t in the mood to party after what had just happened. I was close to calling her and giving her some excuse as to why I couldn’t go. I couldn’t face the world, I couldn’t bear to face Lela, to look into her eyes.

But just then I felt something change, just as it had for a moment downstairs, a flicker of defiance pushed through the fear and guilt. Why should I allow him to win, why should I allow him to control me? That voice grew louder in my mind. It pushed back the shadows. He may have shaken me, I might even have to go along with whatever blackmail he had in mind but I wasn’t about to let him win.

My pounding heart slowed, my breathing became softer, a strength returned to me. I released Bella from my embrace, pushed myself upright to sit on the edge of the bed. I dried my eyes on the hem of my top and took a deep breath, air filling my lungs, revitalising me.

Ok, Lars had some photos and he was going to use them to blackmail me. I had no choice but to go along with whatever he wanted, at least for now, at least until I could manage to find a way out of the hole in which I found myself. Those photos would destroy my friendship but worse than that, they would devastate Lela. We had promised to protect each other, Lela and I and that’s what I was going to do.

Looking after Lela had to be my priority here.

Whatever it was that Lars had in mind, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? Whatever it was, I’d be able to deal with it. I kept telling myself that over and over, I repeated it so many times that I actually started to believe it true.

How bad could it really be? I had no idea. The dominoes where tumbling quickly now but I couldn’t hear them.

I needed a distraction from all this, I needed to take my mind off the whole nasty affair and Lela’s party seemed like the perfect escape.

I’d wear that dress that she had bought me earlier in the day. It seemed like a small beacon of light and love, shining though the darkness which had descended on my life that afternoon. I glanced around the room, searching for it. Not on my bed, not on my dresser or the wardrobe.

Downstairs!

The realisation struck me, I must have left it in the kitchen. I could always wear something else, the thought did cross my mind. I had plenty of dresses, it wouldn’t matter. But the memory of Lela’s excited face when she had found that dress for me, the way she had held it up against me. She had been right, it was perfect. And she had spent so much on it, too much if I’m honest.

But that dress was downstairs, and downstairs was Lars.

I kept telling myself that I was being foolish, this was my house, I had a right to go as I pleased. Lars couldn’t stop me doing that.

Emboldened by my newly found conviction I managed to steel myself and as softly as I could, I pushed open my bedroom door.

The sounds of the TV could be heard drifting up from the lounge, the loud explosions and sporadic gun fire. That gave me some hope, if Lars was in there watching a film there was a good chance that I’d be able to get into the kitchen and retrieve my dress without being noticed.

I stepped softly out onto the landing, crept as quietly as I could down, freezing as every creaking floorboard seemed to echo around the house, until I reached the hallway below. The door to the lounge was open, I could see the large red sofa facing the TV. My breath caught, he was there too, slumped on the sofa, his back to me.

Holding my breath I slowly tiptoed to the kitchen. As soon as I reached the door, I spotted it, a pink carrier bag laying on the floor. The pink, a radiant splash of colour against the dark shadows which seemed to be consuming the rest of the house.

I picked it up, fingers fumbling on the handle. Just get the bag and get upstairs I told myself, before slowly making my way back to the hallway and from there, being as quiet as I could to the stairs.

My dad had recently invested in a surround sound system for the lounge and Lars was making full use of it. The thundering booms made the house vibrate. It was so loud that I doubt there was any way that he’d ever have been able to hear me. But I was taking no chances as I slowly and quietly made my way back to my bedroom. I softly closed the door and with relief I let out the breath that I hadn’t realised I had been holding. Bella, who was watching me from on my bed tilted her head with a quizzical expression.

I tried to push Lars from my mind and concentrate on the familiar ritual of getting myself ready.

Looking in the mirror I gasped, who was this horror looking back at me? My eyes red and bloodshot. My eyeliner streaming thick and black down my cheeks. My lipstick, once a vibrant pink was smudged and smeared and a small trickle of blood ran down from my nose.

I sighed and set about repairing the damage, removing and reapplying until my face was presentable again.

I wriggled out of my jeans and pulled my top off over my head. Tossing them onto the end of my bed, I picked up the carrier bag.

Pulling out that beautiful dress, the velvet, light and soft to my touch. Stepping into it, I pulled up the zip. The soft fabric felt warm and welcoming, seemingly brushing away the weight from my shoulders.

As I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the dress down, a small smile spread across my lips. I looked perfect, the dress was a little shorter than I’d realised in the shop and the neckline a little lower, but it was perfect. Looking at myself, I felt a brief glow of confidence.

This girl was ready to party.