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E
ping down my face as I scr
ke old fruit, but I didn't stop. The pile of dishes in
muttered, my voice so
Nobody ever did. Whining was pointless-it
abbed another plate, its greasy s
ast night. He just stormed into my room at dawn, ripped the threadbare blanket of
as some g
. Yeah,
in the back, drowning in dishes while everyone else laughe
Talking back only makes things uglier, and
le would make sure I regretted i
rough the dishes when a
d cups slammed onto the counter bes
woman in her fifties, her voice
tha. She always acted like
younger women who dumped more grimy, food-crusted
r hips. "What's wrong with you? You're slower than a dead snail. Th
usted to speak. My
st a broken tool she could kick around. Hones
grunted, tur
ndless dishes in my head, wondering how I'd
od, I didn't want
e place. It was j
. I could handle the work-I'd done it a
ome, if I wasn't there waiting like a go
r when she spun around, her
You've got fifteen minutes. Then you're serving t
ing. The plate I was holding sli
mered, my voice
twisted with rage. "Are you
ed hard, staring at the suds on my h
e's no way I can finish all these dishes in fifteen minutes. There's hundreds
you think you get to make suggestions? Yo
d fast. "No, m
tepping closer. Her eyes were
able.' What a joke. You're too slow, too weak, too useless. But you
trembling. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'll try to fi
't try, you idiot. You do. Or I'll drag you t
amming the door so
pounding like it want
shook in the soapy water. Then I force
y back screamed with every move. My bo
wasn't
omeone else ratted me out to my uncl
s were always
hes by now. My hands felt like they bel
inning. All I wanted was a second to lean aga
perate to know how much time I ha
open with a bang, a
k, her face r
ou done yet, you worth
rinsing, water splashing e
I tried, I swear, b
hand shot out, grabbing a greasy ladle from the
urled something at me. It flew through

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