“You are no longer a child.”

“You are almost fourteen!” she screamed, then banged her stick on the table, making me to tremble where I sat from across her at the table.

She glared at me with piercing green eyes, spitting deadly venom with just that look.

I looked away, filled with fear and focused my gaze on my trembling hands placed on my lap.

“This is our lot, Abigail. How many times do I have to screw it in your thick skull? We are pleasure givers, that’s the label society has given us and we must live to it.”

I stayed still, Madam Roseline was also still.

She was waiting for me to say something. I wish I could, I really wish I could.

In all honesty, I tried to live up to the label of women like me, to be loose, not a single care in the world. All we needed to do was give pleasure, how hard was it?

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Madam roseline that I couldn’t.

That no matter how hard I tried, my whole being rejected the label. It wasn’t of my own doing. It really wasn’t.

Madam Roseline glared at me and for a while, I thought she was going to strike. I bowed my head, my eyes shut, ready for a hit but none came.

I heard Madam Roseline exhale, then I looked up.

“If it weren’t for your late mother.” she said, her expression softening but I could tell that she was still mad.

“I would have had you thrown out to the pigs!” she sneered, then made her way to the door.

Before she opened it, she turned around to face me.

“Don’t...