❝ I would be ashamed to call you my daughter! ❞
❝ I would be ashamed to call you my mother! Who would want to wake up to that face every morning? ❞
After being the underdog of a family full of rich snobs, I was ready to make something out of mysel...
British people have good posture, runway-ready fashion, and attractive faces (for the most part). Heck, even their language was spoken in the upmost respect, as if the queen herself was watching their every movement.
I couldn't say the same for their teeth, or the dreary weather, but I could get used to living in these conditions.
T.J., Ally, and myself were sent to the weaponry sector of this airport headquarters place. There, we suited up, forced to lug around more than 10 pounds of bulletproof material among the guns and ammunition that were strapped to our waists.
Next, Erik's servants led us to a large conference area, where we were going to have a quick mission briefing. On the giant projection screen was a map of the storage facility. The area was separated into 5 core sectors: the entrance, north wing, east wing, west wing, and machinery dock.
The entrance was where trucks loaded and unloaded the items that people wished to store here.
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The actual storage units that customers used were placed in their respective wings.
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On the other hand, the machinery dock was where extra cranes, trucks, and metal storage containers were placed. Boats and trains sometimes loaded the large crates for transport in this area as well.
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