I'm Reincarnated So F#@& ALL OF YOU!

Prologue (Part:2)

   Ok, so yeah I was raised in a screwed up environment.

Dad's rich or poor would practically sell their daughters. Either to families who were just like their's or very rich pedos.

So, their sons could grow up with a better life and more money. So they could do the same thing as their ancestors.

This was just to give a template on what my life revolved around. Now, let's get into it.

The farthest I can remember back is when I was five. That's when I realized I was born in hell. Even if I didn't know what hell was yet.

It's my belief that bad memories leave more of an impact than the good ones do. So since this was the time that bad memories were made it's much clearer than it should be.

I was woken up by a maid telling me that I was to go see my mother.

I was a five and still an innocent little bean and was so I was excited because I had barely seen my mother.

She would primarily pop her head in once or twice when going to see my brothers. A few times a year. Sometimes I'd also see her when she's talking to other wives but she had never wanted to talk with me before today, so I was ecstatic.

I put on my nicest dress and shoes. Had my hair done really nicely and had the maid lead me to where she was.

When I got there she was sipping her tea looking bored. She didn't look at me, not once, but I still stood there, smiling. Like a g****** idiot.

Even though this woman had no interest me, I kept smiling and staring at her. I thought I wasn't being happy enough so my smile grew wider.

Look at me, I just wanted her to look at me. I felt like I was invisible, I was told she never came to see me because she was really busy. It hurt but I could understand that,  after a while.

However at this moment, there were no excuses, no lies, no stories. I waited so long for this. For her, to smile at me and hug me. For her, to apologize for all the times she didn't come to see me. To look me in the eyes and say those three words I was so desperate too hear.
But she didn't even look at me.

I swallowed down the lump in my throat. I wanted to cry but I didn't.

Instead, I asked, "Mommy-,"

She slammed her cup down onto the table making me too scared to speak anymore.

"What did you say, child?" She spoke harshly.

I swallowed and I spoke in a low whisper, " M-mommy."

She still didn't look at me even when she berated me. "Listen and listen well, child. You will call me ma'am when we are alone and only call me mother in front of people outside this family. Do you understand?"

My chest hurts. Why does it hurt so much? Why is she being so mean? What's this feeling? More importantly, why won't she say my name?

I'd never felt like this before. All I did was laugh and smile as I played with my toys all day with an occasional nap. I hated this feeling, I wanted it to go away.

I wanted to go away.

"Yes, " I spoke really quietly. As to not alert my mother to my cracking voice. I also held my head down so she wouldn't see my watery eyes.

"Yes, what?" I could feel her voice cutting into me.

"Y-y-yes ma'am. "

Oh no, I had stuttered.

There was silence for what seemed to be hours.

I used that duration to blink away any tears that had made their untimely appearance.

"Child, " her gravely voice brought me back on edge.

"Look at me. "

I swallowed again hoping to keep down any fear or sadness or any emotion really. Then I bit my bottom lip to keep them buried deep down into the pits of my stomach.

I raised my head and looked right at her.

She's bored.

I could tell, her eyes were halfway to closing. She had her head gently leaning again her hand and her other tapped impatiently on her thigh.

Or was she angry, I couldn't tell.

"Do you know why I brought you here?"

I shook my head.

"As the tradition of our society, girls must begin training to be the perfect woman, as they turn age five. Thankfully, the maid reminded me you have turned five long ago."

I was confused, what tradition? What is a tradition? What is a society? But I didn't ask, I want to live! Preferably, unharmed. I was a sensible little one at the time.

"So I've come to inform you that your childish days over and your lessons shall begin in the morrow. But I shall give you a quick preview."

She snapped her fingers and a maid brought her a long wooden ruler.

Then the maids grabbed me by the arms. I screamed. They were gripping my arms too hard, I could feel their nails digging in.

One of them lifted up my dress just enough to expose the back of my knees.

I could hear the floors creak as my mother stood up and walked over to me. I wanted to scream for help but I choked on my own words.

Not one came out except for a few gasps and whimpers.

"Lesson number one, " I heard a loud smack. I think she hit her ruler on the floor.

"You must have an air of elegance and poise at all times. Whether we are sick in bed or on death row. We never cry or show weakness unless we bring shame to our family or worse our husbands."

I felt a sharp edge poke into the back of my knee. I involuntarily gasped and that seemed to be the nail in my coffin.

"You've managed to do both in such a short amount of time. But one thing we absolutely not do is stutter! So let this be a lesson on what happens if you do not perform up to standard."

I almost broke my neck trying to look behind me.

When I saw her raise the large ruler up high.

No! I screamed at the top of my lungs but no one seemed to hear.

I tried to run but the maids held me so hard in their grasp. Even though the tears rolled endlessly I knew it was inevitable. Then I heard the first crack of the ruler and felt the sting on my skin.