“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 think I’ll let you go easy, you hear? Another client of high class would be coming and he has eyes on you. So don’t mess it up.” she said, then got out slamming the door behind her, making me tremble all over again.

I knew those last words weren’t threats but a serious warning.

I put my head in my hands, helpless. And just as I was about to sob, I heard the door open again.

I turned around on my sit sharply and it’s Madam Roseline popping her head through the door.

“I forgot” she says, “before you leave the office, clean it up. With this horrible inflation going on, you can’t trust any cleaner to clean where your money is.”

“Yes Ma’am.” I told her, then she nodded and left.

Not long after she left, Gabriel our cleaner came along.

“Fine evening.” He greeted, with his usual cheerful smile.

I nodded back smiling as I arranged some scattered papers on the floor.

“Madam Roseline told me that I should clean up today.” I informed Gabriel.

Gabriel smiled, looking pleased.

“Well then that saves me more time, right? Okay then, I’ll leave you to it.” He said then made his way out.

I stared at the spot where Gabriel just stood. He fits into his label well and he seems so happy.

If only I could fit into my label, maybe I’ll be happy. All my life has been the house of Rosettes, us roses were known for pleasure and have been keeping up to standard for more than a decade, Madam Roseline being the pioneer of it all.

My mother was one of the first roses before she died birthing me. I heard she was one of the best, the most sought after. I should try and live up to her legacy.

You get a good life being a rose, all the attention and money. I should look up to that, but for some strange reason, none of that matter to me at all.

The client came the next night and as I feared, it was a disaster.

He couldn’t get me to do anything. I clung to my clothes like I would have clung to my dear life.

The man was fuming, his face red like a tomato. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes reminded me of Madam Roseline’s glare.

I tried to avert my gaze from him since he wasn’t putting anything on, but I had to keep my guard up incase he took me by surprise.

But to my surprise he put on his clothes and stormed out with out a word.

I should be relieved but I knew what followed next, so I stayed still like an urchin.

Then it happened.
In less than a minute or two madam Roseline came in, her face even more red.

Before I could say anything, she hit me on the face hard. Then the next thing I knew, I was dragged by the hair from the room, down to the stairs and out into the freezing cold.

“I really did my best.” Madam Roseline said from the doorway where she stood, looking down at me as I knelt and wept, begging her to take me back in.

“But for all I care…” she continued, “you and your mother can go rot in hell!” she shouted, then shut the door in my face.

I knelt there, my head in my hands, freezing cold and weeping.

Then I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.

I looked up to see one of the kindest pair of eyes looking down at me with so much concern.

“Don’t cry dear.” the elderly lady spoke, “come along with me, let’s get out of this cold. It’s freezing.” then she gave me a small smile and I knew immediately I could trust her.

It has been months since the incident between me and Madam Roseline, and I’ve never been more happy.

I finally belong somewhere, with Ellen and her grand daughter jade, who’s just my age.

Going to church every Sunday, being in the choir. Helping out in chores.

I’ve finally seen a label that I fit into.

The label I want, the label I gave myself. Not the society’s label.

A year later, news got round town that the house of Rosettes was burnt down to the ground and Madam Roseline wasn’t spared.

It seemed like she was the main target, cause everyone got out.

It turned out that she owed people lot of money, she even owed the roses. So the house would have gone down eventually.

“Maybe that’s why it happened”, people mumbled and got on with their lives.

No one cared to look up the matter about how and why the the house of Rosette was burnt down.

I felt bad for Madam Roseline. Despite it all that woman raised me, clothed me and fed me before she kicked me out.

I felt bad that the society Madam Roseline cared about, didn’t care about her at all. Not even a little bit.


© Erinma

#Christian #Labels #inspirational #Christianinspiration