Maya could hear her parents arguing in their room. The mild disagreement that always escalated into heated argument and then came the violence, the smashing of things and finally of cause her father hitting her mother.

The neighbors had stopped intervening. Previously, they would come banging on the door when her mother started screaming, call the cops, offer to have Maya sleep over at theirs but each time her mother went back to her father and covered for him, it was at a price so that first the police stopped taking their distress calls seriously and then gradually the neighbors started turning a blind eye to the bruises that always appeared on her mother's body by the morning and a deaf ear to her screams that rent the air each night.

Maya knew there was no way she could escape, not until she was all grown up and big which was going to be a very long time away and so to escape the horror of her life, she danced. Drowning the screams of her mother with the song playing in her mind, Maya danced. Her little six year old body doing very difficult moves in a dance even she did not know the name of, letting out the frustrations of her life in blows that were maneuvered into waves and kicks into leg movements. As she relaxed into the dance, her body slowed into a more rhythmic routine, the frown on her face gradually easing until it became a smile, here in the world of dance, she was finally free.

The first time Maya had tried out to join a dance team had been a total disaster. She had been coming back from school and had on an impulse decided to enter the ballet school opposite her school to audition. Without the guidance of an adult, the ten - year - old Maya had strode into the studio, interrupting the little ballerinas mid spin and declared that she had come to try out for ballet classes as it was her destiny to dance. The ballet instructor ad taken one look at her delicate slender features and seen potential yet neither the instructor not the little ballerinas had known what to make of her combat moves and at the end she had been asked to leave with a warning that she would be reported to her school's authorities if she ever entered the building again.

Maya had half expected the ballet instructor to get violent, abuse her in a way her father had done for so long, it had already become normal to her. She had turned around then, the tears stinging her eyes, yet she did not cry. What use were her tears! She left immediately. She knew it would not take much for the strict looking ballet instructor to report her to her school who would further report her to her father. Her father always punished her when he got any negative report about her, he had once scalded the sole of her feet because her teacher said she had stolen a pen from the new student. She hadn't and she knew who had but snitches ended up in ditches, so she kept silent and even when she screamed, begging for mercy as her father poured the hot water from a kettle into the bathtub she stood in, she still didn't tell him the truth, she was not a snitch.

Lately, her father had devised new methods of punishment for her so that he left no mark on her skin, no evidence suppose she decided to be the vile creature she really was and snitch on him, the marks he didn't care about leaving were the marks that formed within as each new torture he put her through tore open fresh wounds inside of her across already formed scars in criss crosses until she knew she would never be whole again..

Maya hurried home after her shift at the Walmart. Her father knew the exact time her night shifts were scheduled to end and he had given her thirty minutes to round up whatever she had to do and hurry home or face his punishment. He still punished her anyway each time she got home, just for the sake of it but Maya knew it would be worse if she actually got home after the allotted time.

He was getting old and with that came more frequent drinking and less attention to the method he used to met out punishment on her. He had stopped caring about preventing bruises from forming on her skin and so he mostly just lashed out at her with his belt. She had gotten used to the beatings and the occasional torture, it was something she had come to expect daily. What did break her heart was the look of utter despair on the face of her mother each time her father was torturing her and her mother could do nothing about it. Lately he had started hitting her mother with so much viciousness that Maya actually feared for her life but no matter how terrified she was, how much she just wanted her and her mother to be free, she never called the police, never told a soul. Her father had taught her well, snitches ended in ditches.

She couldn't understand what was going on as she drew close to her house, the wailing siren, the neighbors who were gathered around her house trying to peek in and the officers who were all over the place. She hadn't snitched. She hadn't snitched, Maya kept telling herself as she saw an officer lead her father out of her house in handcuffs. His nose was broken and the glazed - over expression on his face meant he had been drinking - that was nothing new, what was new was the presence of the police men and the neighbors.

Ignoring the stares and her pounding heart, Maya pushed past the small crowd and headed for the front door of her house. She had to see her mother, had to make sure that apart from the normal belt marks and bruises sustained from punches, her mother was okay. She had to make sure her mother was still breathing, she had to....... Her own breath was coming out in gasps as fear clouded her vision. She was stopped gently by one of the policemen before she could get in and she tried in vain to shrug off his restricting hand.

"My mother - I need to make sure my mother is okay." She said but she could barely hear her own voice as her words came out in choking gasps. The hand stayed firmly on her shoulder, offering comfort and also preventing her from entering while the policeman explained something about her mother's corpse not being a pretty sight and then Maya blacked out.

Maya woke to the sound of whispered voices. She opened her eyes gradually to see a police woman arguing with a nurse by her bedside, she was in a hospital. They both paused when they saw she was awake then the nurse threw up her hands as if in resignation and walked out, leaving Maya with the policewoman.

"Good morning Maya, how are you feeling?" The policewoman said kindly but Maya eyed her skeptically. "It's okay, you can trust me - my name is Rachel banks from the CID." The woman added, seeing the look of distrust on Maya's face but Maya still eyed her warily.

Seeing that Maya was not ready to talk, the woman continued. "I'm just going to ask you a few questions, see if your opinion corroborates with your father's statement okay?"

Maya nodded

"Okay, how would you describe you mother?" Rachel said and Maya frowned. "Would you say your mother was stable or would you describe her as unstable?"

Maya was silent for a while as she tried to draw the courage to open up for once about everything, the beatings that she and her mother had to receive, the torture, everything but she didn't. She wasn't yet sure that her father would be locked away for good and he had taught her, snitches ended in ditches and so she didn't snitch. She knew what he father was trying to do, look for a way to make it seem like her mother was unstable and maybe pass of the homicide as suicide or self defense. She knew he would need really good lawyers to do that and he couldn't afford any but she did not put it past him. In the meantime however, she had to make sure she said nothing to contradict his story, even if it meant betraying her mother. Her mother was dead, her father still breathing and she couldn't afford to snitch on him.

Maya kept a straight face as she looked up at Rachel. "My mother was highly unstable, I think she had split personality disorder, she was always claiming to be different people and she was always either attacking me or my father or trying to commit suicide. It's been like that since I was little."

Maya waited until the policewoman had gone before she allowed the tears to fall. She needed an antidote for the pain, it was too raw, too new. She needed to dance but this time not alone. There was an underground dance arena she had stumbled upon on her way home from her night shift at the wall Mart once, she has finally found the courage to try out as a new member of any crew there. Hopefully, her father would either not be granted bail or would not even be able to afford it.

Gabriel stood in the underground combat dance arena and watched his crew as they practiced by challenging each other into dance battles that involved artistic wrestling, with the fight dancers performing dance moves as they threw their opponents, the members of his crew were all in top shape. The Power, an annual tournament they had won seven consecutive times was around the corner and even though he was never worried, he still kept raising the notch at their practice sessions until they were practically their own competition.

The fight arena was his get away from the obligations that awaited him at home as the only don of one of New York's most wealthy billionaires. He always felt the pressure, the silent stares, he knew everyone was wondering if he really had the 'Di Marco' in his blood since he was adopted and he also knew his parents and his many relations secretly wished he had been their blood instead of a mere adopted son and so because of that he strove for perfection, carrying out all his assignments with a ruthlessness that was almost singular to him. He ruthlessly cut down opponents and contemporaries and he was not known for leniency when he was crossed, he had no stomach for men who could not man up and face the consequences of their actions. It was what he would do if it were him. It was simple, if you miscalculated enough to step on the wrong toes you should be ready to dance to the beat of their tune, yet all that was left behind as soon as he stepped into the fight arena, his family name, the wealth and connections the responsibilities. Here it was just him and his talented crew members and the only consequence one could face here was eviction from the crew. He was reluctant to try out new members - to make the game more challenging, he had always brought in one new member and evicted another old one few weeks before the tournament but this year he just didn't want to deal with a new face, not because he was of the challenge but rather because even though he wouldn't care to admit it, he had bonded with the crew and didn't want to evict anyone of them.

"Gabe you've been turning down people who come for try outs with us this season." Bryan his assistant and the closest thing he had to a best friend said from behind him as the rest of the crew finished for the day and got ready to go home.

"Well then," Bryan continued. "Aren't you going to keep up with your tradition this season?"

Gabriel shrugged. "We'll see - come lets fight..... dance style of cause and please try to beat me."

Bryan laughed. They both knew that it was close to impossible to beat Gabriel in combat dance. He signaled to the Latin American musicians are who were already parking up gear to let them know they had to play for one more match then he got on the ring and did that - tried to beat Gabriel.

When Maya got discharged, she acted as if on auto. Her feet's moved on their own accord, her mind was far a away, in a world where there was room only for beat and rhythm. Gradually, she numbed the pain with her mind, killed her ability to feel until she felt nothing at all. She needed to get to the hide out she had stumbled upon once on her way home, she had to get there. Something in her told her she would not be accepted, would still not be understood but that was the only place she could be herself.

The dance arena was really a building that spilled out into the open. Within the building, she could see two dancers ....... battling, she had no better word. Their half naked bodies moved so rhythmically, their bones could be made of water and yet they fought she watched them exchange kicks that had to have hurt, yet they did it all to the beat of the music some Latin Americans were playing.

It didn't take long for her to notice the better fighter. They were both good but the blond stood out. Entranced, she watched the flow of his muscles as he performed feats she could only dream of. He seemed to be toying with his opponent, drawing him out then schooling him but his movements belied his expression, when she got a glimpse of his face, she saw anger, a bored kind of anger. He seemed angry with his opponent like he expected more, wanted more. She sucked in a breath and decided to get closer then for one brief moment, he threw his opponent down with a kick and whirled around to face her. Their eyes connected and he gave a slight shake of his head. Before she could even understand what he meant or convince herself that she hadn't imagined it, he was facing his opponent once more.

Maya drew stares as she got closer and especially from two burly looking men she was sure were bouncers. Looking around, she noticed she was the only woman there and the men around were either picking up belongings here and there and heading out or staring at her with lust written all over their faces. For the first time in her life, Maya felt a new kind of fear, one she had never known before.

Afraid to turn her back, she backtracked out of the arena and headed home as the tears blinded her eyes. Rachel, the policewoman had told her she could stay at her place till the police were through with her own house - but she didn't want that. Her father had always been cruel to her, tortured her at will but when he was not doing that, was left alone. Free to live inside her own head. She didn't want the policewoman's pity, the stares she knew she would get. The subtle offers for a session with a psychologist. She didn't want that, she had been strong for so long - had been strong all her life but she had a sickening fear that if she accepted the smallest hospitality, read meaning into the briefest kind gesture to her, she was going to crack and they would be no one but her left to pick up the pieces of her life when she had to be strong again to survive her father. So she avoided people's pity and people in general, she had to be strong.

Maya walked through the traffic, crossing the road at a green light, unsure even where to go. She wasn't sure the police were through with her house and she most definitely could not go back to the hospital - well not unless she got hit by a car. Hopefully, she would be blessed enough not to wake up.

Maya was still fantasizing about how blissful it would be to close her eyes once and for all when it clicked. She didn't even border to hide the smile that broke out across her face. She had not been accepted at the arena because she was a woman. If she were a man or even a boy, a lean masked boy, no one would even so much as glance her way. With renewed hope, she dug her hand into her pocket and fished out Rachel's number, she could endure her pity if only for the chance of getting accepted in the arena.