Belinda

Belinda woke up in two blinding beams of light, encased within a circle of five strangers. Ten pairs of eyes stared down at her as one hand jiggled her awake. She covered her eyes, trying to focus. Testosterone filled the air like a thick smear.
'Where am I?' she thought.
Her moves slowed down to an oozing speed. She looked down at her left arm submerged in a cold black puddle. She tried to raise herself up. Her slinky black shirt was dripping inky liquid. Her high-heeled boots crunched gravel and glass on the worn out street.
"He.he pushed me," Belinda stammered, trying to get into a standing position. One man grabbed her arm to help her up. She jerked away. The night was a black stage; she trembled in the spotlights.
"Who pushed you? Did someone hit you?" asked a man with dreadlocks.
"No, no, I gotta go," making her way to the edge of the circle. Her speech slurred.
"We almost ran you over, what happened?" asked a short fat man. He was wearing a large, knit cap. She could faintly smell marijuana coming from somewhere, probably from their clothes.
"You look like you've been crying," said another.
"I gotta go," she said again. One man grabbed her arm, "We're not going to hurt you. Let us take you home, get in the car."

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