Part 1 Chapter 6

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Four years passes without any change in my life or hope for a better future. The routine settled without me noticing. My days are like getting up at dawn to do my grandmother's tasks and going to school, the place where I spend most of my time making myself forget. As my eighteenth birthday approaches, my anxiety rate increases. My old shrew, whom I despise more and more every day, warned me cruelly that I had to leave her roof at the end of the school year, the time I graduate. She repeats it to me constantly at the slightest opportunity. Despite her unkindness, she is far from suspecting that it will be a deliverance for me. But at what cost ?

These four years of fierce discipline for my schooling allowed me to finish my general education earlier than expected. The additional courses I took to earn extra  credits enabled me to meet the required qualifications. Anyway, I only have studying as an activity. Nothing else allows me to avoid a little of my misfortune. It is my only pleasure, my escape.

The end of the school year is fast approaching and I realize that I will have to provide for myself. The fear of finishing my studies with no option in front alarms me. To survive the adult world, I must find otherchoices than having a degree. With desolation, I resign myself to put aside my university projects to start looking for work.

I try repeatedly to apply for odd jobs that do not require much experience. I take breaks between my classes to peel ads and meet employers. The embarrassment and lack of confidence that has become rooted in me for the past four years, impose difficulties. I freeze to the questions that are ask. Despite my physical beauty, I cannot claim to find work. For lack of experience, I must resign myself for lousy, underpaid and very demanding jobs. Every night, I come back discouraged. How will I be able to lodge, buy food and clothes if I have no income?

On a rainy night, early in the evening, I hear three small knocks coming from outside. Sitting at the kitchen table desperately looking at the classifieds, I have no reaction, believing it may be a woodpecker playing on a tree. But after a while, the noise intensifies. There is no doubt, someone is persistently knocking on the door. Enlightened by an oil lamp, worried that the noise wakes up my grandmother, I get up hurriedly and answer.

I am surprised that someone ventures after dawn on the property. Surrounded by a woodland and lit only by the moon, it looks like a haunted house from a horror movie. Nobody dares to venture into the field, not even on Halloween. On the other hand, partygoers do not hesitate to throw eggs occasionally on the house which forces me to clean everything.

Confused, I open the door and discovers a little bald man dressed in second-hand clothing whose buttons will burst. He seems cramped in his dark blue suit given his extra weight. A black briefcase hangs at the end of his arm. This curious gentleman has distinction despite his old look.

- Hello, could I speak to Miss Jenny-Rose Parker please? he said in a loud voice.

- I'm Jenny-Rose Parker, sir, I hesitated under the effect of surprise.

He salutes me with a nod and breaks in without waiting to be invited. Not knowing how to react, I take a step aside to let him in. But what does he want from me? Nobody came to visit me before; it is a first. He takes a seat at the table, puts his briefcase in front of him and gets out a brown envelope. Without explanation, he gives me a big smile and reveal his teeth yellowed by cigarettes. He insists with a gesture of his hand for me to sit at the table in front of him. I remain frozen at the door, shocked wondering what is happening.

- Come on, Miss Parker, take a seat, he said urgently. We must discuss important things tonight. Come on!

For the first time in the last four years, where I have obeyed orders after orders, I have a moment of hesitation. I can still hear my grandmother snoring upstairs which reassures me at the moment. My eyes are staring at the brown envelope on the table and my curiosity prevails. I take a last look at the tubby man and agree without discussion. The man sitting in front of me, at the end of the wooden table, pulls the documents out of the envelope and speaks to me in a serious tone.

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