Her Story.

For twenty-one years, Vanessa has been my name. By five years old, my mother became my tether to this world, teaching all I needed to survive as a lady of this torrid world of refuse-filled roads. Sword-armed soldiers who regularly met my mother at the dark of night. Food was hot and fresh on my plate every day because of it. But seeing her purple some days and red others made my choice clear. No matter how many jewels the haughty nobles give, this was not to be my life. I knew what it could be for a woman from the books my mother could afford and the stories she told. There must be better out there for me and her.

Birds of a feather, my mother and I – we had the same thoughts. Father Tas appeared one morning to take me as a student of The Hamber Primary. The price of which would cost more than the annual wage of a Blacksmith. With tearful eyes, I begged my beautiful mother, wrapping my little limbs around her legs.

"Vanessa, you… You can do better…" My mother strained to hide her anguish. "So be better," pushing me to the strange, black-robed, bespectacled man, her tears trail black from shadowed eyes. "Tas isn't like normal men. This is a man you can trust."

"Hello, Vanessa. I'm pleased to finally meet you, finally. Your mother saved a hefty sum to give you the best life possible. Best you do as you are told."

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

****

I spent five more years cleaning the rooms I was supposed to learn from. I knew the cracks on the classroom floor more than the faces of my supposed classmates. Except for math, cleaning clothes was of utmost importance. Instead of history, the cafeteria must shine.

Mother's trust in Father Tas was heavily misplaced. From day one, he had made a point to separate me from the other students. Using his position as headmaster, I was 'punished' with chore after chore until he gave up giving excuses for my duty. Why he hated me, I had no idea. I said I was sorry for the limp. As a customer of my mother. I had at least expected more help.

***

At ten years old, I passed for the graduating class with flying colours. Much to the anger of my horny headmaster, who demanded I retake the test. To my surprise, every teacher of my classes, all fellow members of the church like the headmaster, rebelled against him and his harsh ways. Was it the years of ignoring me in the hall as I squeezed dirty water into a bucket that was too much for them? Maybe it was my undeniable talent or the years of reports of sexual harassment that woke them up. Whatever it was, their help came too late. My anger still simmered.

A young lady's arm wrapped around mine. "It's okay, V." I turned to my left, and a ginger-curled, blue-eyed beauty smiled at me. "It's over. The fucker's finally going away." Jennifer, the sweet-as-pie girl with the sailor's mouth. The sole reason why I didn't give up. As my roommate, she gave me daily teachings, noting down everything taught that day, and gave me books from the library to study from. The kindest girl in the world, people surrounded her, magnetised by her infectious, bubbly personality. But the tailor's daughter saw me, the dirty girl, cleaning the floor as a friend. A best friend.

At eleven, I was summoned to court. The trail? "It started when I was five." I looked at the jury of clergymen. "I refused him. A day later, a fire poker to the knee reiterated my answer."

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