From my last training i was traumatised and i had to refrain my self from attacking Madame B when she pushed me to line up with the older girls. And with that another person who i guessed was the instructor walked in and another training began. I really hope it isn't like the last. I don't think i can take nay more. Ever.

For the first 30 minutes, the training consisted of each girl/woman (there were around 15 of us) pairing up and attacking a punch bag consistently. I was left by myself with Madame B keeping a very close eye on me, probably because I'm new. And maybe because I'm with girls that are much older than me. I would say she's keeping me safe in case one of them decides to attack me, or I don't know stare at me the wrong way? But i knew that wasn't the reason, because i just saw her let a teen get killed for not winning a fight! I know she'd let anything that inflicted pain onto me, or even killed me happen. As she said, i can easily be replaced. But that just made me try my hardest. As i was punching and kicking the bag, multiple times i was kicked, punched and hit with a bat of some sort or had verbal abuse thrown at me for not punching or kicking correctly! I'm sorry, who the hell does she think i am! I am 16, and a vigilante, I haven't learnt the proper way to fight! I just learnt as I went along. The anger and pain was almost enough to set a spark of my power off, but i managed to stop it just in time. Thank goodness i practised at least a bit at home. By the end of this so called warm up, my whole body was in agony! I'm not fit enough for this, and I don't think i ever will be.

I say that as if I'm going home tomorrow, when i know fully well I'm not. I might as well carry on with whatever we're doing to pass the time and painful memories of my home and my family. I suddenly miss the notes my mom would leave, even when i didn't see her for days on end and only caught a glimpse of her leaving or coming back.

After the warm up, we stretched and did some attacking manoeuvres on some fighting dummy's. But matter how well you did an attacking or defensive move, it was not good enough. Madame B and the instructor would hit us. The guards guarded the doors but other than that, they didn't intervene. I'm guessing these girls have been here long enough to know not to try and escape, because otherwise i believe the guards would be closer and helping Madame B and the instructor torture us. It occurred to me that through this training, none of the other girls were phased by getting hit, neither did they flinch. Madame B also kept repeating the phrase that we have no place in this world, and i had so many comebacks i wanted to use, but rightfully decided against it.

We then went on to throwing knives at targets. Now the throwing knives went ok. I hit 3/5 right in the centre and two went haywire, because I'm not used to using this skill. I believe the first 3 hit the target because of my bad luck lately, and it ran out by the last 2 and left me with my own skills, which obviously isn't good en0ugh considering everyone else hit dead centre each time. The guards removed the knives from the target each time it hit so there would be room to throw it again. I could still feel the gaze of the other girls and the embarrassment from their void faces, when i missed and that scared me.

Because i missed the targets i was severely punished by Madame B. The crazy psycho obviously likes hurting kids. She slapped, punched and kicked me to start with, which left me with a swollen eyes and bruised abdomen. I didn't cry out, or let any tears fall because i had enough common sense to know i will be punished more for that. Inside i was on the brink of dying with pain. It hurt so bad. But little did i know the worst was yet to come. She then took the knives i had used to attempt to hit the target and slashed my cheek. She then continued to stab me in the abdomen.

I GOT STABBED! STABBED IN THE GUT! At this point i let my pain show and let my tears fall freely. Blood was oozing out of my abdomen, funnily enough on the other side of my bruised ribs. She knows what she's doing. I was on the verge of taking the knife off of her and killing her. I hadn't even been here a day, and I'm already traumatised. I cant imagine what the other girls must have gone through. As i was crying like a broken mess on the floor, Madame B lifted my head up by yanking my hair whilst i yelped and sneered at me.

"You're even weaker than i thought! You may not be so valuable after all"

It took all of my power to stop crying as much as i could, and stop any more emotions from triggering my powers. I had felt a spark go through my body, and it was just waiting to be released. It hurt keeping it in, but i had to keep doing it, or i will never escape.

Madame B then kicked me, as if i was garbage. Well i am compared to the other girls. If she thinks I'm so bad why did she put me with the older group? I'd rather be with kids my own age. She kicked me all the way over to the guards, and i started internally panicking. My power was almost bursting at the seams. I didn't want to go anywhere near the guards, and tried scooting as far as i could from them, but i didn't get any far because i was in agony. She then started speaking to them in English, fortunately.

"Go let the girl clean herself up. She has 15 minutes, and then bring her straight back whether she is done or not"

The guard didn't reply, and nodded. He then continued to come over to me and picked me up. I was flung over his shoulder. I would be trying to escape from him because i have seen how brutal they can be, but i was in too much pain, and i knew that he wasn't going to kill me just yet. And i couldn't really stand let alone walk so i appreciated the ride, even if his shoulder was really bony and uncomfortable.

Now when i thought getting cleaned up meant getting a doctor to patch me up, but let me tell you how wrong i was. The guard walked into a small room and sat me on a wooden chair that looked as if it was going to break as soon as i sat on it. Luckily it didn't. He then went and stood by the door with his gun loaded and ready to fire and pointed to some supplies on the table next to me. The supplies included some rubbing alcohol, cotton pads and some needles and threads. Do people come here often if they have the supplies ready? it wouldn't surprise me, but what did was the fact that I WAS SUPPOSED TO PATCH MYSELF UP, WITHOUT ANYTHING TO NUMB MY PAIN! I have a very low pain tolerance and so i thought getting stabbed was the worst pain ever. Spoiler; its not.

As i was psyching myself up to patch myself up, i realised that i only have 15 minutes to help myself. And I'm pretty sure she was being generous. I estimated i had about 12 minutes left, so i got to work. I first off started by applying the the rubbing alcohol which made me hold my breath and shove my hands straight under my legs to hide the sparks being released. It worked as the guard didn't see, but the alcohol was so painful. It was as if my whole injury burned and froze at the same time. But i knew that wasn't going to be the worst part. I then rubbed the blood away with the cotton pad and grabbed a needle from the table and threaded a piece of string though. This took way too long because of my shaking hands. The guard could see i was struggling and yet did nothing. RUDE! When i finally got the thread through i stitched my cut up, which was now very easy to see. I wont give you the full details of what happened but i there were tears, blood and i had to apply another layer of alcohol to make sure i didn't get any infections.

Imagine that, i die from infection in this torture place. That would be embarrassing.

As i was putting the bottle back on the table i was lifted once again onto the guards shoulder, which again i was thankful for, but confused on how he knew that my time was up, because he didn't have a watch on. Oh well, at least i finished. As we came back into the training room, i was harshly shoved onto my feet, and it took a few seconds for me to get the room to stop spinning and stay on my feet steadily. And that's when I saw what was lined up on a table in the middle of the rooms.

Guns.....