Tainted

Bol

I'm stuck. Nowhere to go, no way out. I just have to sit here and hope whoever I get sold off to is going to at least give me some freedom. Though I highly doubt it. The way things are going for me here anyway, it's not like I have any hope at surviving, let alone living. Whoever get's me is probably going to be worse than here and I can not stop it. Can I?Utterly useless. The man was an incompetent fool. I didn't need to spend any more time pretending I was going to get along with him. A first date and he turns up at the coffee shop in tracksuit bottoms with a stain on his tee shirt. I mean come on! I'm not asking for a three-piece suit here. The very least you could do is make yourself look a little dressed up. Jeans and a tee shirt and a coat in this god forsaken rain. Tracksuit bottoms. Honestly. Mum's gonna piss herself laughing when I tell her tomorrow after dad leaves. I still have 40 minutes to waste before I need to start heading home to clean up and help her with dinner. I'd rather not go back early. At all would be great too but I'm not stupid. It's not worth the hassle of dealing with him all pissy. It's not like I'd get very far. I pushed my earphones a little deeper into my ears, having learnt too early on in life it's better to not be able to hear things than hear things you're not supposed to. I'll drop into the library, slip these two into the returns box and grab another few to take home to keep me busy for a few days. If my heads in a book, no one talks to me. It's probably the only hobby dad tolerates that isn't cooking, cleaning, or pouring him and Cian drinks. 'Men are made to be served. Your husband will expect the same.' A lesson I had learned the hard way. One I don't intend on 'forgetting'. I'll find a way out of all of this eventually but right now, I don't have one and survival is all that matters. Survival first, Mum's survival second, living last.

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Pages: 294, Paperback, Ottavio Ferrante