"Did I ask for your opinion, miss y/l/n?" Ms venable raised her voice as she slammed her cane into the floor.
"No," I whispered shyly, my head pointed down, looking at my shaking hands that were positioned in my lap.
"Well then, you should have kept it to yourself. If you keep up with this behaviour, you will most certainly start losing privileges," she sat back down in her chair positioned at the head of the table. "Eat!" Everyone quickly averted their eyes away and to the plates in front of them.
I sat back down on my chair and started picking at my cube as I felt a single tear run down my cheek. I tried to subtly wipe it from my face before anyone had a chance to see it.
I hated being in the Outpost. I wish I died with everyone else out there. My family, my friends, my cat.
My late night visits with Ms Venable were the only thing stopping me from offing myself. The closeness to another person which I craved so badly, feeling wanted by someone, even in a not very nice way.
Except, I'm falling in love with her. And i know that she doesn't feel the same, I'm just her personal play thing, something she can take all her frustrations out on.
After everyone was finished eating, ms venable dismissed us. As I stood up from my seat, she discreetly grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards her. "Meet me in my room at nine pm, no earlier, no later," she harshly whispered into my ear. "Yes Ms Venable," I whispered back and removed my wrist from her grip. I went to the library, my quiet place, the place that I go to think, because no one else is ever in there. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books, stopping at a random one and pulling it out. The price of salt. I sat down on a vintage arm chair and opened the book, reading the first page.
I was in the library for about and hour when I glanced up at the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room. 8:49 pm, it read. "Shit," I cursed under my breath and placed the book back in its place, running out of the library and looking both ways down the hall, to make sure that nobody would see me out of my room after the curfew. I only had 11 minutes to be at Ms Venable's door. I hurried back to my room, brushed my teeth and quickly changed into my nightgown and glanced down at my wrist, checking the time on my watch. Four minutes left. I took all the pins out of my hair and let it hang in loose waves around my shoulders before checking my self in the mirror and applying more lipgloss. "No," I whispered to myself. She doesn't deserve me. She thinks she can boss me around, yell at me, hide out relationship from the others. Not that this is even a relationship. I'm just her fuck buddy. Not even friends with benefits. She just wants the benefits part. I will not deal with this anymore.
I grabbed a hair tie off the bathroom vanity and pulled my hair up into a loose ponytail, wiped my lipgloss and any other make up off, before stomping out of my room and slamming the door behind me.
I'm going to yell at her. She takes all her frustrations out on me physically, sexually, so why can't I do it verbally?
As I approached Ms Venable's door, I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. I stepped up to the door and raised my closed fist, pounding once, twice, three times before it opened and I was met with a seemingly calm looking Venable. She harshly pulled me out of the hallway and in to her room. "You're late," she seethed through gritted teeth, the only hint to her mood through her calm façade . I snatched my arm out of her vice like grip. "Do I give a fuck?" I snapped at her. Her eyebrows raised as she looked down at me. "Well, I don't know. You tell me," she said cockily. "I'm not doing this anymore," I said, looking back at her with a strong expression. "Not doing what anymore?" She asked as she stepped forwards, trying to assert her dominance and push me back into the corner of the room. I stood my ground, staring up at her. "This!" I waved my hands around, gesturing at the room surrounding me. "Being your little fuck toy, something you can boss around like a dog, hit like your personal punching bag, force me to do things that I don't even necessarily want to do," I clenched my fists by my sides, standing up taller, but I still wasn't as tall as her. She still towered over me, cane in hand, looking straight down at me.
