Wishes you Regret

Lead

Izzys POV:

I quiver as I hurl once again in my hard, cold room. I need to rid myself of the taste of Men, of their presence. Tears are streaming down my bruised cheeks, dripping off my chin as foundation. I will not take the joint they left me... I won't.
I am dry heaving now, my retching barred by my empty stomach. I crawl to the blocked window; to where the crack in the plyeboard is... The moon slices down as a diamond shiver to brush a whisper across my skin.
When will soneone come for me?

Janas POV:

The man leers as he drops a ten pound note to flutter down by my face. I weakly raise my arms to shove it away but they hang limply, they don't move. He zips up his dirty jeans and leaves, trainers squeaking on the hard floor. I cry, I sob, and I hunch myself into a ball to keep myself in. My fringe flops in my eyes, soaking up a steady flow, and I feel my caked on mascara streak. I cry harder. My fingers creep over to the edge of the bed, grasping the note. Whether I like it or not, I need the money. I stuff it under a loose stone in the window sill--and notice a crack in the plyeboard.
I lower my eye level to it, and a shadow of moonlight brushes my skin.
I shiver... Will someone ever come?

Hannahs POV:

I scream as the man enters, slamming open the door and grinning cruelly. He is already at his belt, his fingers fumbling. I push myself backong the floor, into the corner, but as usual, he follows.
When he's done, he drops some money by my tear streaked face. Moonlight from a crack in the blocked up window falls across my neck, mimicking a slice of silver on it. I cry harder, and it reaches up to my mouth, gashing that to. I've always hated the night: it was when the terrors came, and was the moon not part of the night?
No one was ever coming to save me.
I reached out for the joint and the almost empty lighter.
Maybe this will save me...

Flints POV:

I scream a violent curse as I backhand the b**** across the room.
'Would you just shut it?' I snarl, stalking around, pacing. She wimpers and I curl my lip, my eyes shooting her icy promises of death. I need to find the girl; and that pesky brat Amy! How dare they? My fingers fly up to my temples... Think! I urge myself, think!
She will come for her sisters, her broken girls, and she will bring help... But who?
I scream, and the b**** scurries out.
Seb comes up to me.
'What?' I snap.
'A source... She's been spotted at a shop in London, with a man called Kyle Falconer--he's in a band. They left in a hurry, she seemed to be crying. It was Claudia.'
I clap his shoulder, handing him £50.
'Good work! Buy yourself a drink and some woman.' I say warmly.
His eyes glint sickly, and I push back the want to recoil. Instead, I smile, and he leaves. I tell the Shadow man that I need more information on the shop, and the car.
I have a lead.