I read out this short story to my spoken word group when they met a couple of months ago. What I didn’t tell them was that I dreamed the story, and dreamed it happened to me. I think they would have found that disturbing.

“You could at least have put on a bit of eyeliner. It’s a party. You can have some of mine. Here, let me- I’ll put it on for you.”

She had to do that. Everyone in the car turned and looked at me. All of them feeling sorry for me- the short, dowdy one who had never fitted in.

A few expert strokes, and there they were in the mirror: thick, navy-blue swirls under my eyes. I wanted to tell her that I hadn’t put on make-up because I’m allergic to so many toiletries, not because I don’t know how to dress up.

Instead I mumbled, “thank you for the eyeliner. It hasn’t irritated my skin, so we’re all right.” Not such a forceful reply, and the others weren’t even listening anymore. They were talking among themselves and laughing, leaving me out as always. They looked down on me.

I’d told my mother that I probably wouldn’t be going out with that crowd. It had been a last-minute decision. I would have to remember to phone her later, to tell her where I was.

It seemed to take hours to get there. It must be miles from home. I felt panic rising, but it was too late to pull out now, jammed against the side of the crowded back seat.

At last we arrived, and spilled out onto the driveway. It was a grand country house in a remote area, with a huge garden. Giggling and shouting, the bolder ones ran inside, and I followed slowly, wondering whether I should have come here.

The whole of the ground floor was packed with partygoers, and I could hardly move. I was pushed by the force of the crush into a room where kids were lying on the floor. A boy turned round to look, and he seemed captivated by me.

I noticed the girl who lay next to him, wearing shiny dark pink, with immaculate hair threaded through a matching pink ribbon. She pulled his arm sharply to get his attention. Of course, that would be the end of it- he would go back to her.

But he didn’t. He scrambled over and started kissing me.

Soon I was making love to him in an empty room. The start of a new life. Now that I had a boyfriend, my life would be better. I would be happy with him, and I would have status. Then, a twinge of unease- I didn’t know his name, or anything about him.

I remembered that I hadn’t yet phoned Mum. Where was my bag? I had left it in the other room. The boy was okay about me going back to get it, so I put my clothes on and went, telling him I would be back.

But I couldn’t find my bag. No wonder- there were clothes, shoes, bags and human bodies everywhere. I searched desperately- I had to let Mum know where I was.

Suddenly I heard shrill, urgent voices- it was the two girls who had been sitting at the front of the car. “Quick! We’ve got to get out of here now. There’s a man here who is wanted by the police for beating up women.  He’s dangerous. Come on, run! Now!”

“Who is it?” I gasped. “Do you know which one?”

“Him!” She pointed at my new boyfriend, who was dressed and standing in the hallway.

He didn’t look upset. It was like he didn’t care what they were accusing him of. Maybe the accusation wasn’t even true.

But the two girls did start running, and so did some of the other girls. I was about to follow them, but I hesitated, and when I finally ran, I couldn’t see where they had gone. They weren’t at the front door. In a house this size, they could be anywhere.

For a while now, panic had been threatening to overwhelm me. Now it hit. I raced like a maniac, out into the garden. I must escape, but where could I go? I had no transport. I had lost my phone- I couldn’t ring Mum. How would she find me, so far away from home?

The garden was very dark. I was lost among the dense bushes. Lost completely, in every way I could imagine.