A little girl, nine years old; she feels the music pump through the floor at her feet. Grinning wildly, she dances along with the familiar songs. According to her life was great, it was a just a big game. Her family called her their baby, she thought she was too old; The Spice Girls, sparkly lip gloss and weekends ruled her life. Her friends dance with her, their eardrums pounding hard from the sound engulfing them. She doesn’t question her curfew: nine o’ clock, she doesn’t argue with her parents, children are still dropped down the chimney by storks. She still calls her parents “mummy” and “daddy”, she crawls on their lap when tired and allows her father to pick her up and spin her round like a toddler. Next month she will be ten, and ready to learn a few more things about life. It seems like nothing would make her happier than this birthday, she was born later than all her friends.

She wears a tank top, a denim mini skirt and cowboy boots. Her face is plastered with glitter, her hair a vision of sparkly hair clips and spray, she feels like she is sixteen years old. The lights spin as she dances, or is it her that spins? The dance is a game, the music is a game, falling to the floor, giggling is a game. The Spice Girls continue to sing in the background, one by one her friends fall to the ground as well, and the hall is filled with the sound of laughter. They wave to the boys on the other hall, who scowl and look away.

On a euphoric high, she goes with her friends outside to get some air. Everything is crowded by happiness and dreams, nine years old. She leans against the wall, laughing, and her friends all chat about the dance, about which boys they like and how they could get them to go out with them. But she now feels tired, it is almost nine o’ clock and she should go and find her parents.

Now everything turns cold; her friends are no longer there. She is left in the alleyway, forgotten. The alley is dark and damp, she feels afraid.

“Hey there kid.”

She turns, a face; a man’s face, presses up against hers so suddenly she forgets to breathe. Fear paralyses her, she can smell the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath, feel his stubble against her face. Something hard pokes against her leg; she doesn’t know what’s going on. Too late she screams. The man is on her, his cock juts in and out repetitively; utmost horror and revulsion comes over her as she realises what is happening. This was a man, men were like her father, and they did not do such things. All happiness that was hers is now gone, she feels so ill that she finds it hard to breathe. As suddenly as it began the horror is over; she throws up and faints there and then. She does not see her father come searching for her; she does not see him cry out for her in the darkness, hear her mother’s screaming or the sound of police sirens. She only knows pain and nausea, her innocence shattered like the bottle of the drunken man in the alleyway. One precious thing lost, another, horrifying thing found.

When she wakes up, all she knows is that face. She cannot see her father, she cannot see the male doctor; every male is that face. She does not speak for months; all she can do is scream as her sleep is shattered by another dream, another nightmare, nine years old. She goes to therapy three times a week, her tenth birthday passes, forgotten.

That same little girl, fifteen now. Her birthday is the next day, she will be sixteen. She has not gone out since then, she has used every excuse in the book to get out of going to concerts and parties with her friends. Other than that, she hangs around with guys just like any one else. She talks to her dad, but their relationship will never be the same; her parents still call her baby, she welcomes it.

The morning of her birthday she wakes up, sleep shattered by a dream. She dreads the usual teasing of her friends, how the “baby” of the group will soon be able to have sex, how quickly she’s grown up. She does not know what is to come.

Her mood is sullen, but she feigns enthusiasm. An iPod, some tops and a new skirt; she hugs her mother and nods her head to her father as thanks; they watch her go with sadness in their eyes. Her friends at school greet her with a banner, a loud cheer and a big packet of sex guides. They did not know what happened that night. They tell her they had a surprise for her after school, and she waits with excitement for the rest of the day. As they sit around at lunchtime they bring her a cake, with an extra one for all their boyfriends. She doesn’t have one, instead she gives her extra piece to a cute guy near her, as he had no “other half” either.

The day draws to a close and her friends surround her. They make her close her eyes and something is pressed into her hand, it’s a concert ticket. Her heart pounds, she doesn’t know what to do. Memories of the Spice Girls, sparkly lip gloss and weekends fill her mind.

Choruses of “Well, what do you think?” surround her; expectant faces look up at her. Her friends say that seeing as she had never been able to go to a concert before now, because her parents forbade it, she can go to her first for her sixteenth. Something special. Her mind is devoid of excuses, she has to consent. As her friends push her into the car she wonders what she will do, but soon she warms to the idea. It will be fun.

A little girl again, nine years old; she feels the music pump through the floor at her feet. Grinning wildly, she dances along with the familiar songs. Her friends dance with her, their eardrums pounding hard from the sound engulfing them. Today she is sixteen, and ready to learn a few more things about life. It seems like nothing will make her happier than this experience, she is ready to embrace life again. As the music changes she feels the crowd press in around her, she cannot be scared in this place full of happiness, music and light.

“Hey there.”

She turns, a face, that cute guy’s face, appears in front of her so suddenly she doesn’t notice. She feels an unfamiliar feeling come up inside of her as she studies his face, the short stubble and breath free of alcohol and cigarettes. She dances with him on a euphoric high, and allows him to lead her outside. They kiss, she’s happier than she can ever remember being. But unexpectedly a memory of a face; a man’s face, pressing up against hers so suddenly she forgets to breathe. She pauses, remembering a time in an alleyway similar to this and screams. He looks confused; not understand her sudden fear. He moves to embrace her, but she pushes him away, fleeing into the darkness. As she realises what has happened, she is filled with fury and regret. Angry tears fall down her cheeks as she curses that face, that man’s face, leering out at her from the darkness. A car pulls up, her mum gets out; her dad is behind the wheel. She allows herself to be led home, a child again. She now knows that she can never escape that face, the owner never found, never caught; her appeal being rejected by the police.

In one, short moment her life was lost. Now she stumbles through the alleyways of her mind, trapped in her own fear.