Moses Frank: VII

Nothing happened after the incident where Moses caught with drugs and dancers. No one cares, at this point, it is evident to everyone that Moses is an addict, but she can get things done so who cares, at this moment, there is a stalemate on what to get done while she’s lucid and sober, for the short time that is. Some clown from lower ranks suggested we stage an intervention with Moses. Someone must have squealed to Moses that that was a whisper about her. We found the clown in a shallow grave three days after she came to us begging for us to stage an intervention. Again, we all know Moses is a mess, but let’s not go too far with trying to get her help, our lives depend on her mood.

Today, it was a little rougher dealing with Moses than usual. I wasn’t sure what her mood was doing to her, but I knew by how dilated her pupils were, she wasn’t anywhere near sober. Moses kept yelling for things she never had. It was a stretch to get things that never existed in her possession. Moses wanted a designer bag that had since been off the market before she was born. She swore that she had the bag. Someone was about to lose their lives until her dealer came through with something purer. After a long absence in the bathroom, Moses came back to us somewhat standard —still high, but her regular, high self.

No apologies for almost scalping an innocent worker, but that was the beautiful demon Moses was at times. I laid awake at night thinking the times that she has ordered a hit out on someone and it turned out to be an innocent person she turned her rage onto when she was coming down or feeling angry. Sometimes, I cry myself to sleep at her carefully crafted unpredictability. You can always spot when she’s about to lose her mind over something trivial, but the range is too broad. She can go to throwing a tantrum and slamming her door closed like a spoiled teenager. To throwing someone off a 40 story building. It’s all in the matter of what’s she’s feeling.

I hated the feeling knowing she’s not stable in any way. I was signed up for this, bound by life because she had a feeling to bust down my parent’s door. I am hoping secretly she gets help. Then again, every time she says she wants to get clean, it’s a lie. Every time she moves her mouth it’s a lie, but we have to all pretend we like her, so we don’t die. I don’t know if that’s a bad option.


Moses: One, VI

It happened today.

I wasn’t really surprised, but it is always strange to see Moses freak out because of a bad international press. I think the display is strange because she should be used to it by now.

“…Sheer indignation!” Moses snapped as she threw a rolled up newspaper at me. She straight chucked it at me; with perfect aim and timing. It slapped me as it landed smack open where the gossip rag showed their fury towards Moses.


I wanted to laugh so bad because of the lack of punches held in the headline. It was explicit. The only thing I would change is leaving acclaimed film director James Hcal out of it. He can care less about Moses– I am sure he also is preparing to sue everyone and anyone responsible for this leaked one-sided romance as I write.

Moses quickly drew up plans to visit LandMass 1 to go out on an all-out war with their national, mainstream media, particularly the magazine. I have given quiet props to the first land mass; they really know how to do international news. They know how to make their news relevant to the whole wide world. After all, we follow their celebrities and wish to catch the LandMass 1 wave of capitalistic supremacy.

Although the rumors they published were true; we don’t need them to broadcast it. We have our own media to spin things. Besides, what is different between us and them? They use stupid monikers to keep people down such as race, identifying pronouns, and class. We don’t have that kind of the mess; everyone is kept down by one person. We are all equal in our dastardly struggle to survive under the watchful eye of a high functioning drug addict. For this meeting, however, Moses was sober—-for this meeting. I knew after we wrapped as a team, we were not going to be able to contact her for three days before the trip.

“I need an advisor.” Moses barked. Marsha slowly got up to assume her solid role. Moses asked for an advisor was her way of asking for Marsha, but for some reason. Things changed today.

“No. Not you. Sit down.”  Moses didn’t look at Marsha. Marsha plopped down in her chair, Rita quietly grabbed Marsha’s hand as her head willowed down. How embarrassing to be fired in this kind of outwardly subtle way. you see everyone’s head stiffly looking straight at Moses, but you can feel all the eyes dancing with this fresh gossip.

I imagined myself dancing on a grave. Not any grave in particular; my imagination celebrated what I couldn’t act out.

“You.” Moses lit a cigarette— she points to Lauren.  A quite busy bee with extremely nervous energy.

The whole meeting looked around shocked at the casual upstaging. Lauren is the new travel advisor. That felt odd to acknowledge.

There were a couple of random gasps sprinkled in the auditorium. As soon as Lauren’s name was called, you can hear the gasping ping-ponging off the walls.

“You can do this, ask Marsha how to help you.” Moses didn’t look up at anyone as she kept filling though what needed to happen for this trip.

Lauren looked and smiled at Marsha. Marsha didn’t respond as Rita continued to stroke her hand.

haha, I thought the laughter phonetically.

As soon as Moses literally had the door spank her on the way out. The whole room stiffly crowded around Lauren. We were all spaced out at congratulating her with Marsha outwardly sulking in the room. After an obvious, “I’m upset, but let me act nice” extended pause Marsha hugged Lauen, we all knew it was fake, but it was a relaxing sign that all of us were able to show our actual praise of Lauren.

Rita and Marsha both spat indirect insults about Lauren into the air as they stormed out and slammed the door behind them. We all laughed and talked smack as we continued with our celebration.


That night, Marsha came into my room as if we were best friends. I was annoyed.

“Can you believe what happened today?” She plopped her disgusting body on my freshly made bed.

I shook my head. I told her flatly, I am still new and I don’t know things like she does. So I am sure she will get a bigger position.

I was wary of a woman that is known to sell out her fellow coworkers for a pat on the back and a ham sandwich would ask my opinion about our ruler’s decision.

She tried to get some information about what I liked about Lauren and I told her I thought she was pretty.

“She’s kind of homely, don’t you think?” Marsha leaned in, looking at me with a pinched eye.

I shrugged my shoulders and told her that Lauren is in shape, and maybe we can all use some of her workout tips. I knew that statement would set Marsha back. Marsha would never admit that a huge part of her problem with Lauren is she is genetically blessed. Lauren is beautiful. Marsha hates that Lauren doesn’t try when it comes to looks.

I think some of the whisperings amongst the other Margies is, Moses choosing Lauren over Marsha to get to Marsha is true. But between my writings and I,  I think Lauren is the new travel advisor is because she’s prettier than Marsha. Having someone pretty and pleasant as a ‘friend’ brings on added benefits. Marsha…well…her added benefits did Moses no good.

After some awkward small talk, Marsha left. She got no new information from me, but she did leave my room more obvious in her envy.



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Moses: One, V


I am stuck with The Margies for the rest of my life.

Fifty-six of us proudly call ourselves Margies. As a Margie, you’re on the top of the food chain when it came to staff ranking.  Literally, it’s the best thing someone under lifelong servitude can ask for.  We are still subject to the same whimsical brutalization others suffer, depending on how Moses feels that day, but our punishments are not as final as the others.

I try to tone down our excitement of my title when around others who have more menial, difficult jobs, but sometimes I can’t help to shout my excitement for trips around the world and exclusive entries to functions and parties. Margies are chosen which makes the title more delicious, it is rare to find someone who has earned the spot of a Margie— that has happened twice in the Franks’ 323-year rule.  I am not sure what and why we are chosen, I tend to stop wondering when something amazing pops up due to my job.

Our important motto:

“By any means.”

The main role of a Margie is….guiding how information is distributed.  We are the world-class public relations firm, as good as it’s going to be for anyone in a certain position of absolute power. We are the media, knowledge, and understanding of this country. National conditioning is done while we are on vacation drinking native liquors, standing around in bathing suits. If we have to spill money or blood, for a something to be projected in the media in a certain way, whether it be good or bad, so be it. It’s our job, no, our duty to keep things interesting.

Everyone spills here, everyone— You learn quickly what an innocently hollow face is capable of. It’s amazing what people are made of when it comes to being a Margie.

The only thing that makes this job horrendous is the executive president Marsha and her Vice president Rita.

I like to call Marsha ‘Miserable Marsha’. Marsa is just as miserable and tacky as her constant calls for competitions. She always has to compare herself to someone else over the smallest things. if she feels she is in the lead, she gives unneeded advice about “catching up”, if she does not feel like she is in control, she harasses the spark out of you, making your charms and personality seem like you’re “showing off.” Marsha, Queen of Gas, second to one. She is never satisfied with just keeping her empty achievements to herself.

I think she’s miserable because her frame. She’s ugly to me, short and stout—not like a teacup, which is cute, but more like a melted pot. With no pieces of ‘pot’ in place. The only thing shapely about her is how her stomach and buttocks stick out in unison. Let her tell it, she, “doesn’t need to worry about her looks anymore, she can ‘get anyone she wants who is of substance. She announces that everyday when someone else gets a compliment.  I guess that’s her way of spilling her beans that she spends a copious amount of time waiting for the boys to get drunk so she can have a turn. I mean, why else? Other than the fear of losing their jobs to lies she sells to Moses for sympathy.

It’s always a hard sell too. Sometimes, I want to shake Moses and scream that this woman is a liar.

At first, I adored Marsha. She  is intelligent and charming. She advertises herself as someone you can confide your deepest worries and secrets. However, as time goes and she starts to laser in her envy of you.  She became more and more of the beast the other girls catty in secret to each other about. First, it starts with her ‘over’ complimenting you, then those same compliments become heightened reasons why you are ‘showing off’ for the rest of the firm.  After a while, she always has a reason other people should watch out for you.

Marsha isn’t as annoying as her pet Rita. Rita is the type of person to play neutral when in reality, all she does is use your dirt to become more of a fan favorite around the office.  The only reason she has not been punished the way she should, is that when confronted with her disloyalty, she turns her bug eyes real wide, lamenting that she didn’t know what she was doing when she was doing it.  Everyone around here feels too sorry for a fool. Instead of a swift slap in the face followed by a humiliating demotion—it’s tea and a conversation about what she did wrong.

Of course, she’s back at it, playing all sides all over again.

She can’t be trusted, is my main complaint.

I remember when Kate, a mild-mannered scullery maid got into a huge fight with Inga, another scullery maid. While at lunch, Rita was excited to announce to Kate gossip about Inga. However,  Kate was flat out not interested because she, “didn’t want to waste air about people she hated.” Instead of Rita keeping quiet, she went ahead and told the news, as if she didn’t hear Kate say she wasn’t interested. It was wild, from that day one, I was weary of Rita.

You can tell Rita a story about being locked up in a tower for three weeks because Moses didn’t like your lipstick. A few days later, Rita will tell you the exact same story; only this time, it’s about her. No one would stop her while she was doing it, but everyone made fun of her doing it while her back was turned.

Moses Frank: One, iv


My first official day as her assistant was more eventful than I wanted. I was surrounded in a  delicate yet forcefully decorated grand meeting room, with a bunch of Cheif Head Wingers parading as leaders from Moses’s father’s time.  She couldn’t shake up the long standing institution for draconian laws to set by men. So I was feeling a little bit, worried about her.

I wish I were at home. I have a strained relationship with my parents, but the strain was better than this kind of pressure. As Moses walked past me, I started to tear, she was wearing the same perfume my sister wears.

My eyes started to swell. Moses caught me before busted out in tears in front of the whole meeting hall.  She carefully shuffled me outside and to come back in when I was ready.

I took the  hour.

When I came back to the meeting, The air was violently tense, everyone seemed upset they had to take orders from a young, surly, coffee skinned girl that looked like a wife to an uptight professional athlete, then an absolute monarch to a modem dictatorship. It was odd, to be honest, to have someone this young be so broken, yet hot to touch.  Alas, here we are in official meeting robes taking orders from a woman I’m not sure is fully committed or interested in the policy she is proposing to enact.

Adam Taut, the leader of the Head Wingers, ha so much fight in him today. He was an older man, I wanted to say he was Moses’s grandfather’s age. A thin build with an usually large head and thick dinner plate eyes. He was clean, but something about him seemed so dirty. Nevertheless, he was brilliant and forward thinking with his ideas, when ever he spoke, everyone paid a little more attention. If someone didn’t know any better, they would have assumed that Taut was the leader and Moses was the girl that was allowed to do whatever she wanted. Like play ruler for a day  I was enchanted, but I can’t let Moses know, so I had to show him with my eyes.

Adam and Moese spat back and forth to each other for the duration of the meeting.  There were points that it got really nasty and ugly, I just turned off my tape recorders because the language was too much. Moses wasn’t as stately as Taut, but she sure did have a wonderfully hideous way with words. Once the meeting broke, Moeses sank down in her seat.  She was exhausted, and I quickly told her I was too, to show solidarity.

Moses asked the first guards to leave as she directed me to go meet her on the terrace.
Soon after, Moses met me as she lit her cigar,  “You learned something?” I have grown accustomed to Moses not looking anywhere in my direction as she spoke to me. I apologized again for my lack of attention, she said asked me what I was talking about.
After a light chat, she got down to the real reason she asked me outside.
“You thought highly of Adam, didn’t you? I noticed your eyes.” she blew some smoke in my face.
I had a hard time looking at Moses as she placed her hand on my shoulder.

“It’s okay if you like him, but you should know you’re not good hiding how you feel.”
She laughed.
I didn’t know what to do because I’m still not confident I’m safe around her. I flatly told Moses that I don’t want to die because she didn’t like my answer. She rolled her eyes.
I spilled I thought he was a stately human being.
Moses nodded softly.  However, her demeanor switched cold. She told me to retire to my room.
She puffed as she stomped inside. I heard the door slam. I cleaned up and held to myself that she asked for an honest answer, so she shouldn’t have been that upset.


Moses: One, iii


I was so happy when we finally made our destination.  From afar, the odious Castile is out of place from the surrounding slums of Seafront. It was not that the people were poor; they did not want to rival anything the young dictator was doing or building. All skilled workers are employed by her. She forbids workers to use their, “skills” elsewhere.  “Adore. “ Moses candidly calls out to her estate. Adore is breathtaking. It had a classical yet, modern tone to the exterior, accented with large windows and cherry red lining. The front field is littered with blood red roses that also line various roads throughout her compound, the shades of red were so intense, the fallen petals looked like pools of blood.  I complimented Moses on her maintenance of Adore since her parents passed. She blinked twice and shot me a creek smile. I scooted a little more towards my door and told myself to reserve the rest of my energy for appreciating the winding road leading up to her front door. Interesting foliage scattered around lush green grass. As if, she wanted a bush at random spots in the field to her liking. I am in awe of her house. I never saw it in the official photos—she does not do things like that—nor even in the gossip news. It was an intense first time looking at it.

I did not realize the drive up to the front door was going to be another painful ten minutes. I managed the best I can to not look at Moses blow her nose away. It is horrid, to say the least.  As soon as the car came to a halt I leaped out as if it was still moving. and rolled on the ground seven times. Everyone just paused and looked at me like I hadn’t been here long enough to go off the deep end. It was extraordinarily disconcerting…..I could not believe how ominous and the stark white mansion was up close. I was thinking it was super elegant and modern from the gate,. Now that I think about it, as we drove up, it seemed to get cloudier.  I don’t feel like I saw this house and felt this weather when we got to the gate,  It was a very strange feeling of evil that lived in the house. Like a protective evil, I was scared.

A portly guard swished my door open and grabbed my right arm. He yanked me out and I swirled out of the car.  “Get inside” he snorted as he kicked my suitcase towards me. I was frazzled; I picked my case up and scurried in. Moses left to get something to eat and watch television. The guard, lead me down a large white hallway with deep red carpeting. The walls were accepted with poetry, pictures, and messages from Moses. I was shocked at a number of people working and filing through her grounds. It was as if they were consumed with the minor task that does not require the human emotions I was seeing. They all needed to look like they’re very busy was what I gathered. I overheard a woman freak out because she thought Moses’s pants shrunk in the dryer. Even though the instructions mounted in huge green letters behind her clearly states that ‘a little shrinkage never hurt anyone.’ I giggled to myself, as the woman’s hysterical cries were behind me, a blatant distant memory.

“You’ll be staying here.” The guard shoved me into a luxury suit.

My new prison quarter is gorgeous.

As the fat man slammed the door behind him. I waited a couple of minutes before I laughed and rolled around in my new cell. I was fully aware the responsibly of keeping Moses’s affairs in order is going to be very long and arduous. I was also excited that I was able to unwind in my chef kitchen or the study clear across the 4099 square foot penthouse. As long as she was good, I was good. Therefore, I personally took it to myself to make sure she was comfortable with me doing the job. After all, I believed the worst friends always give the best gifts.

Later that evening, Moses came into my room and plopped a large red book on my lap. As she walked away, she said it was the new manual of my duties.

I turned the television off and resided to myself it was going to be a long night of studying.


The earth cracked each lightning bolt, highlighting the scars of the sky

I froze my mind to watch nature dancing; I quietly confessed my sin to the cries

Of each rain drop shooting the pavement indiscriminately

Singing that I am worth it, I am worth more than I give to me.

Rain masked my tears bloodied from my lies

That I tell myself each day, I am not a burden to be alive.

I inhaled deeply to shout the universe my hope.

Lightning sliced the sky again reminding me to go home

The thunderstorm called my mother on the phone

Not a good idea to roam empty, you are stronger than you know.

Moses: One, ii


I was uneasy getting into the car. The way the doors slammed behind us as we settled in did not sound like doors I would normally hear to signal that I was safely in the car. It was as if the car were bells toiling at my sealed fate. I told myself she made it clear that she was more interested in sparing my life than ending it; however, I was still thinking my life was going to be over. Again, I never see this woman until she wants to act out on her jealous rage.  This all knowing and all mighty ruler still gets insecure when prettier girls that are more vibrant came along to her awkward black tie affairs with their proud dates in tow. She had a standard habit of drinking way too much while sulking in a corner, lamenting about attraction privilege and colorism until her favorite dealer made his appearance and hooked her up with false promises at dirt cheap rates. Ironic she is the ruler to everyone, but still could not get her connect to show up on time, no matter what kind of threat she pulls out of her bad. I, however, am not her dealer, and I try to make myself small so others can make themselves look bigger to bears, so I do not know why she would find a reason to be envious of me.

After 45 minutes of complete silence, finally a crack. “You’re still scared, huh?” Moses lazily tilts her head towards me. I sat right up.

“Terrified.” I just felt if I had to go out now, at least I was going to go out being honest.

“You don’t think much of me do you?” As Moses is talking, she is dozing off. Therefore, I was wrong in thinking she was on any uppers.

“I think the world of my everlasting light dear—”. She halts me mid-sentence; she was not interested in the official motto every time she does an official visit or propaganda movie. Moses wanted me to lay it all on her, now.

“Well, I don’t know what to think…” I was stuttering. On one hand, I wanted to say it did not matter if I liked her or not, she already bought me from my parents; at this point,  admiration went out the window the second she signed the check. On the other hand, I wanted to tell her that she is stunning in person to the point that it’s distracting. The official photos do nothing for her, so her asking me what I thought is still absolutely pointless because it’s going to not feel like I’m telling her the truth.

Moses was clearly annoyed.  “Okay, well I know you’re not going to give me a straight answer, so let’s not speak.” I immediately sunk down into my seat as Moses reached in her purse and pulled out her drug kit. I just flat out told her that she’s beautiful in person. “You’re just saying because I am the ruler.” I shook my head, knowing she wasn’t going to believe me. I looked to see if the car partition was locked tight—it was, and the driver is blasting music—I huffed in my head this was going to be the longest three hours of me watching my ruler get high. I was thinking, ‘this is one of my official duties—great’. This was going to be a worse show than her dreadful press conference last year when she announced that new land was under her territory.

It was clear that she had been up for a couple of days doing drugs. When she came on live television looking like a cracked out, excavated mummy. It was hard to keep the shocks and whispers in the press room quite. One woman screamed in horror and asked if this was a zombie. She horribly waved her arms in the air as she yelled that Moses is destroying her looks. Before Moses opened her mouth, the woman rebuked her addiction and swan–dived out the 30-story window to screams so horrible, it made some people in the press room to pass out. That live show was the interesting, to say the least. It was the only time a citizen openly criticized Moses’s drug use. She sure paid the price with her life for doing something so courageous.

“Do you know what I am in charge of?” I did not think she was serious; she was bending down to snort a  line.

“79 Billion.” I was literal,  It was the population of all of the people under her rule. She ruled over 79 billion fearful souls.

“No, I mean you do know what I’m in charge of?” Moses’s voice was lower and nasally.

I shook my head.

Moses belted a condescending laugh. “I am in charge of the beast that dwells inside me, the woman that is too bold to stand out, but too afraid to be put out to the land. I am a shell who has no control over what she feels. This soul—is in charge of me.”

I wanted her to elaborate; I was confused in what she was talking about it was so devilish sounding as if a demon possessed her to take the answer lest Moses endure embarrassment by a vapid answer. I felt I was seeing once the soul leaves her body and another one enter as the road got extremity bumpy and Moses spilled her addiction all over the place. She did not seem too worried about this.

“Well, when I spill, usually it means we are half way.” Moses leaned excessively to reach over my head and pat me like a cat she’s afraid of. As the ride settled, Like clockwork, she reached in a secret case in front of her.

“What are you are trying to contain?” I politely inquired, but Moses did not hesitate to pretend she did not know what I was talking about.

“I didn’t say anything.” Moses is a professional at casual lying.

I nodded my head in agreeance.

“You’ll learn. ” She was blank in her voice. She jolted out of her trance and started to create a drug meal again.

I kept telling myself this was going to a long tenure.


Moses: One

Part One: of a series


The news broke out while I was washing Dear Leader’s pipes. The International Crime Unit has taken in our benevolent dictator, Moses Chidechi Frank, into custody for war crimes. According to NDD, the only news network we have in Seafront, Moses was arrested outside of a strip club in Wasterhood, New Mersey. She did not make a fuss, apparently, she wanted to run back inside and get her leftover bag from lunch. Thankfully, they allotted her to do so. Personally, I loathe the International Crimes Unit; they take cases of so-called “bad dictators” and parade them on television as if that is going to help the people these jokers claimed were suffering. The ICU is unique at fueling our societal false sense of justice and that world peace is attainable.
It is an odd fascination how we celebrate the poor being punished while letting the rich get away with anything.

Alas, they choose to put Moses on the chopping block this time around.





I was told my job by Moses herself when she stormed my parents’ home telling them she chose me to be her personal assistant. I lived peacefully the suburb of Rockland, 443 miles north of the capital Seafront.  Usually, Moses does not make a trip to this side of her rule unless she was in the mood for violence. I was scared because she looked like she was high. It is not a secret that Moses abuses hard drugs; the country is little more stable when she has fallen off her sobriety wagon. It has been about 3 months since she has fallen, so people are more interested in living their life as normal. I was completely terrified when she busted into my parents’ home. I thought she decided she was going to use me as her personal punching bag. When she came kicked the door down, it was a shock at first, but seeing how wild her eyes were and her inability to keep still made me eerily relaxed. As she explained to my parents, that she needs more friends around her age,

It was absurd to question the ethics to my parents when she offered the money to release me to her custody.  My mother rushed me upstairs to get packing as soon as Moses finished signing the check. Although families are free to choose whether they are leaving their homes to work for Moses in the capital, it is still a better choice to say ‘yes.’ The benefits of staying alive around Moses are miles better than sitting at home wondering if you are going to be her next random target.

I packed light. I packed to two pair’s pants at like and three tennis shoes. I knew I was going to get a complete makeover when I get my official duties set in—Moses did not believe in anyone looking a mess around her.—I was sorrowful knowing that my life is going to change forever. At the same time, I embraced that I was going to be the right-hand person to the most powerful woman in the whole land mass, possibly the world. I was going to be spoiled with rewards upon rewards for existing to do what I am told to do.

“Ready?” a sweet voice beamed from behind me. I jumped a bit; her voice is too smooth for someone that is so demented. I told her I was but instead of making way to leave, she sat at my desk as if she was sitting down for her first school lesson.

“Tell me something I would like to know.” She folded her hands and smiled.

I did not have anything to tell her that she would not have known already. She kept a file on everyone that lives, comes, and goes through this land

“I’m scared you might kill me.” I immediately regretted what I said as soon as it left my lips.

Moses shook her head, she seemed little hurt that I would think that she would do such a thing to a person she was legally kidnapping through her own rules.

“You’re too nice, but I don’t kill people that look like me, you now? I don’t kill former or current staff unless they try to dress me, you understand that, right?”  Moses patted my shoulder fantastically hard, and twirled out the door, demanding I come downstairs. I quickly followed behind.  Kissed my parents each and swore that I would bring back vouchers so they can visit. It was a sight to see my mother and father cry. Moses came right back in and without saying anything, gave my parents a book of vouchers, cheerfully announcing they can come visit anytime they wanted to.

That was the last day she was kind to anyone.

As I followed her out, she asked me again why I was so jittery and nervous; she never bothered to look back at my facial expressions, so I was mainly having a conversation with her backside with noises coming out of her front as if it were a smelly back.

I told her …again, I was worried she would get upset with me and kill me; she has done things like this in the past.

She stopped and turned back towards me as the driver scurried over to the back passenger side. She was clearly annoyed, I was also frighted how calm she remained.

She softly came close to my face as if she found a good angle to bite my nose off.
“I told you, as long as you’re good. I am good. Stay in your place.” she srugged and fliped hair in my face as she contineued towards the car.

She made herself at some in the passenger seat. The driver tensely motioned for me to enter into the car. This was going to be a long ride.