Nicole Bramwell-Douglas had never wanted for anything. She lived with her two doting parents in a large detached house in a picturesque village in Surrey, England. Attendance at one of the many local private schools was the done thing. Poverty or suffering was only something seen on the news or glanced at in her father's newspaper. Her image of the world was very much moulded by her school and her parents. The recent 'troubles' which had began to erupt on New Year's Eve 1999 were seen collectively as 'rent-a-mob' encouraged by political extremists.

As the recent troubles had, in the main, focused in large cities such as London, Manchester and Liverpool there seemed little to worry about. That was until Friday 3rd March 2000 when Nicole's life would change forever. The day started for the teenager at 7.30am when she arose to find the house in darkness due to a power failure. Her mother was flapping trying to find the candles, whilst Nicole gazed in to her bedroom mirror trying to brush her hair in the half-light. After a hurried breakfast of cornflakes she was driven to school. Once dropped of she reminded her mother that her friend Samantha was sleeping-over and that her mum would be bringing them home.

The power cut had not affected the school, which rather depressed Nicole and her classmates. A day off from the strict regime was always welcome but that was not to be. The school day went quickly and Samantha and Nicole waited at the school gate for their lift. They were not waiting long before Mrs Pendleburry cruised up in the navy blue BMW. The two girls got in to the back and put on the seatbelts. They exchanged pleasantries about the school day with the doting parent. After a twenty minute drive they were at the large black gates of Nicole's home. They stepped out of the car remembering to thank Mrs Pendlebury for the lift and waved goodbye as the impressive car disappeared from view.

The light in the hall did not work. They noticed a large torch on the table along with a note. It was light enough for Nicole to read it. The message was from her mum. Her father's car had been vandalised so she was going to collect him from his London office. They then made their way upstairs to get changed. It was the rule that school clothes had to be removed once home to prevent them from becoming damaged. Nicole very rarely challenged any of her parent's rules or that of her school. She was soon wearing something more comfortable, trainers, jeans and a sweatshirt. Samantha disappeared into to the bathroom for long soak in the luxurious sunken bath. The radio beside her bed fortunately also worked off batteries and she spent an hour or so signing along to various hits. The news at 6pm sounded as awful as ever with news of yobbos rioting around the country. It was now time to eat so she took the torch from her bedside and began to make her way down stairs. She would prepare some sandwiches for when Samantha had finished her bath. As she rounded the corner of the staircase she noticed that the front door was slightly ajar. Hurriedly she moved towards it and closed it. Her dad would be furious if he found it open.

Instinctively she looked down at her watch, '18.06,' she said to herself. Making her way to the kitchen she thought she heard a noise. Occasionally next door's cat got herself shut in and thus thinking nothing of it she walked a little quicker towards the kitchen. Stepping inside she shone the torch around the floor calling the cat. Nicole then shrieked as the torch beam highlighted a pair of dirty boots. The torch fell to the floor and she was aware of a number of figures within the room.

Before she could let out another noise hands grabbed her, one finding its way across her mouth. 'Shut up you little bitch,' ordered one of her captors. Nicole was relieved that the voice was female. Her mother had always told her that it was men that were responsible for all the world's troubles. She reasoned that if they were women she would come to no real harm. One of the others had now picked up the torch. Most of the gang had let go of her apart from one who held her arms firmly behind her back. The torch was then shone in her face whilst the woman held her jaw preventing her from moving her head. 'Mummy and daddy very rich?' she questioned. Nicole tried to gaze beyond the light and attempted to answer. 'What lovely clothes you have!' said a young male voice. Nicole wanted to reply and reason with them but the firm hand on her chin prevented her from doing so.

Samantha meanwhile had heard the noise a quested something was amiss. She had hurriedly towelled herself down and put back on her school clothes. Quickly she left the bathroom and disappeared in to one of the large rooms. Samantha was a little more worldly wise than Nicole and figured that not investigating a noise was the best thing to do. Like her friend she had never come across poverty and had never wanted for anything. Nothing in her closeted life could have prepared her for this. For the first time in her life she realised that she might be in real danger. The thought gave her a feeling of fear but also of excitement. She craved the romantic and the dark room made her feel like she was on the set of a horror movie. Somehow, simply she felt that she could now cope.

A couple of the others had discovered the candles dotted around the kitchen and were busy lighting them. Once lighted they left the room making their away in to the rest of the house. They then let go of her and the remaining youths spoke asking her more polite questions. Nicole realised she was alone with just three young women. They asked about her bedroom and what it was like and about her favourite music. Nicole answered and the youths sniggered. 'Lets see your room then!' said one of them as she took her by the arm. With torch in hand the four of them made their way up stairs and entered the bedroom. Immediately they began looking into the large fitted wardrobe, whilst Nicole looked on. They took out a number of items. One girl held the torch whilst the other two pretended to be fashion models, mocking the dresses as they held them up to themselves. Samantha could hear the commotion from her hiding place next door. She was now lying on the floor with her ear pressed up against the wall straining to hear what was being said.

Nicole's bedroom door opened and one of the boys handed over a couple of bottles of drink, Nicole recognised the as her fathers favourite red wine. The boy left and the girls started to drink them straight from the bottles. Shining the torch at the label one shouted, 'Fucking hell it's 12.5%, were soon be pissed!' The drink did not take long to take effect and their behaviour became more outrageous. Nicole just sat on the bed keeping quite hiding behind her long auburn hair. Around the house she could here noise as various items of crockery and ornaments were being thrown around. She reasoned that these must be the yoobo's that she had heard her parents talk of. Nicole tried to get a glance at her watch it appeared to say 19.41 but she wasn't sure. It would not be long before her parents arrived home and everything would return to normal.

The girls were now removing their tattered clothing and attempting to try on Nicole's dresses and skirts. Two of the captors were about her size and thus could easily fit into her size 10 petite clothing. The other was a good size bigger and thus unable to squeeze in to most of her outfits. 'That sweatshirt would fit me!' the larger girl said shinning the torch at Nicole's chest. She ordered the girl to give it to her. Reluctantly Nicole obeyed taking it off and then reaching for her nightly to cover her bra. 'Don't be shy.' Said the girl and pulled the nightwear from her. Nicole sat there a little longer pleased that she was being ignored. The girls had now all found things that fitted and left the room to show the rest of the gang. Nicole reached for one of the discarded t-shirts and put it on.

One the girls returned and Nicole recognised her voice as the one who first spoke to her. The young woman though drunk spoke clearly and articulately. She gave Nicole a lecture in political matters. Whilst Nicole did not fully understand all of it she got the general idea. These self-styled anarchists hated everything her parents stood for. The woman told of their hypocrisy and about people starving and suffering. She also informed her that whilst they didn't blame her they did blame the older generation. After some hour or so of friendly but firm indoctrination it was clear to Nicole that she had choice, follow the old ways or the new.

Nicole felt that she could now talk. The other two girls had now returned and she began telling them all about her parents stupid rules and how she believed in justice and freedom. She had of course learnt about democracy and the abolition of slavery at school. Now she had discovered that similar injustices were taking place today and she had to act. As she had finished her speech one of the boys stumbled in to the room. 'Hey... look at this!' he announced. He begane to hold letters and photographs up to the torch. One of the girls began reading out a love letter. It became clear that it was to her father. Romantically Nicole thought that it was from her mother. But as the letter continued it was from his lover. The boy explained that he found them hidden in the large desk in the office. Nicole's father always kept it locked; it was now clear why he did. Samantha continued to listen in. It was better than any Soap. She was shocked at the revelations and pondered how everything might end.

'This is just another example of the hypocrisy in this country!' announced one of the girls. Nicole agreed in her mind. All those lectures about family values and purity ran through her mind. The boy left leaving some of the lets scattered on the floor. The young woman befriended her and placed her arm around her shoulder. After a few moments Nicole spoke. 'I wish to break away from all these lies and start a new life'

She then continued, 'What should I do?' The girl and her were once again on their own. 'Think of everything they have told you and one by one reject those values. Think of every rule and if you cant think of a good reason for it break it!' With that she got up and left, leaving a burning candle on the dressing table.

Nicole thought about everything. She hated her school uniform and her school. She took hold of her school bag and emptied it on the floor. She took out her maths exercise book and symbolically tore it up. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. How she hated her long hair, the times she had asked to have it cut shorter. In a flash she reached for the scissors and bravely began hacking at it. It about ten minutes it lay on the floor and she supported a punish crop. She then remembered the beautiful red party dress that her aunty had given her last summer. Her mother had forbidden her to wear it as it was 'too tarty' for a young girl. The problem for her mother being that it had split up both side to the thigh and was backless. The problem of unsuitable underwear, or lack of it had been mentioned and the matter never discussed again. She did not give Samantha more than a passing thought. Presuming that she was either hiding or talking with other members of the gang. From the distant noises Samantha realised that the gang had moved downstairs, but she would not risk moving out of the room just yet.

Hurriedly, Nicole took off her t-shirt and bra and found the offending dress at the rear of the wardrobe still in its cover. She slipped it on and stood on tiptoes so as to see it in her mirror. She then slipped of her trainers and jeans and stood on a chair. The split revelled her white boring knickers. She tried to pull them up higher but that did not work. There was only one thing for it, remove them. She did so assertively and them kicked them across the room. Filled with new confidence she walked out of her room toward the noise downstairs. As she turned the corner of the stairwell the torchlight fell upon her. She was greeted by wolf whistles and clapping. She smiled and said thank you. They took it in turns to kiss her on the cheek before they retired to the lounge.

Samantha ceased the opportunity and crept towards the door. She listed at it before gently turning the handle. A stream of dim candlelight from Nicole's room lit the hallway, whilst flickers of light came up the stairwell from the ground floor. She edged quietly across the carpeted floor in her bare feet holding on to her pleated tartan skirt so that it would not rustle. The mood down stairs sounded friendly but she could not risk being discovered just in case things got unpleasant. Her confidence started to grow and thus she began to decent the stars one by one listening as she went. Soon she was downstairs just a few steps away from the front door and lounge. She realised that she could get away if only she could make it to the door. A few breathless steps and she made it.