Sergey

One evening I was sitting on my bed reading a book. My mother came into the room with a sad, emotionless face:

• Daughter, pack your things, you're leaving. Then she added that I'd been sold. Five minutes later, Sergei, a guy who used to study in a parallel class, arrived.

In the car he said:

• Princess, if you want to be happy with me, just listen and trust me.

At home, I was texting a friend, and she suggested stealing Sergey's hookah refill and going for a walk. I agreed. When he left for work, my friend and I grabbed the refill, ran off to a secret spot, and had fun. But 20 minutes later, Sergey showed up. He grabbed my wrist.

• Let's go home, we'll talk there.

At home he sat down next to me and asked: "Why did you do this? I told you: if you obey, we'll be happy." I asked for forgiveness through tears. He calmly hugged me.

A week later, we were happy together. In the morning, I was making breakfast, and Sergey hugged me and whispered:

• Good morning, princess.

I smiled and picked up the plate, but it fell and broke. I stepped on a shard, and blood gushed from my leg. Sergey treated the wound, laid me down on the bed, and went to clean up.

I got bored, so I limped into the next room to get my textbooks and pulled out my A-series. Suddenly, Sergey burst in and shouted: — I'll kill you now! What the hell are you doing sitting here? Where did I tell you to lie down? And you smoke too! That's why you smelled like tobacco!

I looked at him guiltily.