Erasmus by Keira Fight (e manga reader .txt) 📕

The ride is over. I´m stepping out from the car and take my luggage with me. My new master is showing me our room, so I can put my clothes in the wardrobe. As I am arranging my few pieces, he is watching me behind my back. My shoulders are really tense under his eyes, so there is a feeling like falling to the ground. It is really heavy, a stone on your arms, I can´t hold my stuff any more. Pretty ridiculous, if anyone is watching the scene. Actually, I would be glad, so he can free me, maybe.

Finally, I am ready, so I am turning around, only to see him leaning at the doorframe. His fingers are symbolizing me to go after him, he wants to show me something. Hopefully, it is something not so cruelly, after my stepfather John, I have the feeling that I can´t take any more. Mr. Frank Burlon is going to the kitchen entrance, because I am the new cook in this household. Typically, I am the mistress of the tiny place, until I am a bird in the heaven. Yeah, this will happen never. Honestly, I am happy with my surroundings, unless my master is a gruel man, too.

His finger is showing me the electronics, how to use them correctly, so it is nothing alien to me. Frankly, he could be nicer than my like-to-be father John, if there`s not this silly feeling in my gut. As I am stepping nearer to the oven, I can sense the touch of a hand on the small of my back.

“So, little wife, show me your value. In order to watch your abilities, I am working on the kitchen table. Cook something worthy”, he says with an aggressive mood. His body is now sitting on a chair, which is staying in the opposite corner of the big room. A few seconds are his eyes on me, then on his screen. Actually, working is better than babysitting of a stupid woman, who hasn´t any education or manners, because of her background. Before I have been jobbing at a tiny office, only serving coffee and cleaning the rooms twice a week to get some money for my family, of course. Otherwise I would be a total poor excuse of a daughter, not bringing some input. My stepfather John always said, that I am something undefinable, not being allowed to have an own opinion of the world, only saying yes and no. What would I do for freedom? Anything available. But I lack of brain and adolescence ways to survive in the city. I can´t drive, read or communicate with others, so I have no perspectives in economy houses or social buildings.

“Your meat is smelling like hell. Do you know of the costs I must pay for your failure? Probably not, you do know nothing.” I feel like a branded cow, the slap was going in the middle of my face, meeting my left eye and a part of my nose. Immediately the swelling begins, hurting like a box in your belly. Maybe my nose is broken, there is blood running down my face, into my mouth and all over my T-shirt. My little lunch is turning within me, turning around, wanting to move out of my body, onto the floor. But if I am doing such stuff, I would be slapped again and again, no end in sight. Karma is not by my side.

“I beg for forgiveness, I am sorry. I make it better next time”, I respond to his abuse. His hand is twitching again, as I am looking at him.

“You should have made it better, but now it is for the trash. I order something from the Chinese next corner, but only for my family. You will survive today without dinner, as your rightful punishment. Go upstairs, I am meeting you for bedtime.” I´m feeling really useless, like a shell of something irreparable. Slowly I am going to the room, never looking back, because of his rude behaviour. With trembling hands, I am opening the door, pushing it behind me to the certain ´click´.

After a few minutes, I am sitting on the edge of the bed, not looking at it. To big is my fright of the future. What will happen? I am scared. I have no experience in such shameful things, nobody seemed to be concerned about my duties as a wife. I have never known how to make babies, only a dialogue between two women has educated my little brain, that it needs an anti-baby-pill to get rid of potential babies, if you are too young or it was an unexpected fault. But I have nothing of said stuff, no “condoms” or “pills” to prevent, or any experience in sexual ways. In my mouth is a bitter tasting from my thoughts, it makes my belly turning around, never coming out, only building up to a hurricane, only wanting to explode and taking the most terrible crashes with it.

To come down, I am taking a short shower in the bathroom and drying my hair in the best way possible. My knees are shaking together, turning into a sea of pudding. Obviously, my husband is arriving at his room, because of loud steps coming from outside. My feet are fastening, only to make my man happy, not wanting any slaps from him. Rudeness was never in my manners.

Sitting on the chair, one of three in the bedroom, before a desk, I want to burying myself. Never guessed to be in such a situation, only to create a new scene, hopefully my feeling is false. The steps stop, abruptly the door is swinging open and my wonderful husband is here, in all his glamour and shine. “I think the dinner was better than your work, actually as your future preparations, too. I am content about the Chinese work, making your stomach full and happy. But my desires are not stilled, yet. So little Olive, go serve yourself and lie down to the bed. It seems like a good beginning after all.”

He is saying that like I´m a pet, not counting more than a thing in a trashcan. Yeah, never guessed how great life can be. My head says loud and clearly no to the order, but orders are orders, even if you want do demonstrate. I am weak in mind and body, so there´s no chance to win a fight. And where should I go afterwards? It´s a simple act, you are surviving it, no more crazy thoughts.

Apparently, my moving is to slow, so I am pushed down to the layers. On the belly, I can´t turning around, because he is sitting above, on my back. My arms and legs are to jelly, like pudding. His fingers are slipping fast trough my clothes, the only feeling my body contains is throwing up again and again. In the middle of the rape it´s overwhelming. My puke is coming out like a waterfall, but it´s only water, with a sour tasting, which makes me do it in repeat. The last I can sense is the dark that is pulling me down to the grounded earth in my dreams.

The man is slipping away from the unconscious woman on his bed. After his settled desire, he sees now use for her. So, he is standing up and going to the shower, hoping that she is awaking now. His brain wants to beat the crap out of her, never stopping. But she is to useless, giving up her non-existence resistance to easily. There is no fun in that whole marriage and after 51 years of living, nothing erects his happiness or smiling any more. Not only is the sect a boring way to improve the hierarchy, but to bring out the worst of men like him. He lived in the private group since his birth, never really focused on something different, new and with future. Only the old ways are the right, like his ancestors said. The old and wise dead persons made the rightful decisions, bringing misère on their children. The truth lies in the shadow, waiting for the lightning and the thunder. Maybe in a few days, months or years the sect will be disturbed, punished and destroyed. Yes, I think the women will make their lost up, standing for their womanly features and containing themselves like real humans. Until then I am behaving like a total crap, controlling and pulling Olivia´s life down, to hell itself. Perhaps she will be the one, who starts a revolution.

The towel around my hips is slightly going down as I am stepping out to the bedroom. My dear one is lying in the middle of my once great bed and in a sea of puked things. Actually, it is only smelling water, so she must be starving a little bit longer than since today. Hmm, what should I do now with her or better said with her body?

My brain is feeling like a piece of mud, a little bit like pudding and my eyes are blinking around. Where am I? I´m on a hard floor, under me a dark green carpet. It is more convenient than my old room, so much I can tell you. My arms and legs aren´t alive any more, only my face is showing up and down. Can I stand up? I am going to try it. My elbows are going to the side and my knees are facing my head. Slowly I´m rising up, the sun is no comparison to me in the morning. Oh my god, I am like a philosophe, it´s unbearable. That´s a phrase I heard from my last boss, who had no reality left in his right mind. Yeah, there´s a magnificent feeling in my mouth, hmm, is it puke? I don´t know, but it´s quite the same. A difference is not knowable. A few dots are dancing on my sight, as I am glancing at the furnishing. A bed, a couch and a desk is in the room, not very striking.

Leaning on the wall, my hand starts to hurt a little bit. I am a weak person, really, that´s the truth. Frankly, I wouldn´t dare to cross my husband, but I need to go into the bathroom, not only to wash myself, but to bring my mind into clarity. If you didn´t know what happened a night before, which way would you go? Confrontation or escape? It makes no difference in that cause, because my feet are always fleeing before any dangerous situations. Faster than your eyes can follow, I am on the way to shower my thoughts away. Nobody wants a stinking female in their house, I can be sure not anybody follows me.

The room contains two washbasins, a bathtub and a shower with a cupboard next to it. Even if the man in the house can be a rich person, there is no sign for wealth. No gold or silver, whether diamonds nor rubies, nowhere decorations in sight which can tell you stories of too