Operation: One percent

Chapter 5-part one

Margaret

Wars, throughout history, are tales about a single thing- human greed in form of politics at the display, and the effects are still felt among common people. I was still a baby when the war happened, but as I turned 16, I remember seeing the call for volunteers for a government study.

All I wanted were some credits to buy my father a birthday present. So, I went in secret. No one questioned me, nor did they particularly care. With the protests against Lilith and anti-abortion law ensuing, my parents were pretty distracted. It was done quite fast; all I did was sleep for several hours as the science team said that they are just going to track the phases of my sleep.

I dismissed the idea of telling my father or my mother what I have done, and I was ecstatic about having enough money to buy these incredibly high-end chocolates I had seen.

If only I had the chance to give him those chocolates.

Most of my memory from that day is repressed, I just remember a single woman knocking on my door, telling me that she is my mother's friend, asking me to come with her, saying that my parents were taken and that I was going to live with her from that point forward.

With time, my hope of my parent's return slowly diminished, and the same hope was trampled by the faces of my parents plastered on the list of victims during the protest. But the government didn't deem them as victims, because they were labeled as terrorists instead. Victoria was not exactly the most caring person and was absent most of the time, but she made sure that I was clothed and fed. The apartment was rented, and I had it to myself most of the time. Whenever I tried to ask her why she took me in, she would just dodge the question, leaving me alone once again.

She was met with quite the resistance, escape attempts, and tantrums from my side, but she never threw me out. In a sense, I started seeing her as my mother, even though she treated me like a pet. She could never replace my parents, but I was wondering would a single hug be so bad for her?

As I grew, I could tell that there was a general change in the atmosphere of the city. People were tense and uneasy, and there was rarely anyone on the streets in the evening.

And then, one day I had fewer classes than usual, and I noticed Victoria waiting at the schoolyard. Hope that she was there for me slowly diminished, when she hugged two other girls. They were much, much younger than me, and better dressed. They went into an expensive car and drove off. An unexplained feeling of jealousy filled me.

Victoria came in the evening to drop off some groceries so I can have my fridge filled.

"So who are those girls that you hugged so lovingly?" I didn't want to contain my disdain toward her.

"They are my daughters. My real daughters."

I chuckled with annoyance.

"I see. So what are you doing with me then? Why don't you just let me go?"

She stopped cutting the vegetables and turned around.

"It's not that simple Margaret." Pinching the bridge of the nose, she proclaimed.

"It is! You hate my guts obviously, and as far as I know, my parents might still be there! You just came in and literally took me away from them."

That was the first time she raised her hand on me when she slapped me on the cheek.

"You ungrateful little bitch. You have no idea how good you have it. And I am only doing this because I made a promise! Don't ask me to be your mother because I never will be."

The sting of her words and the slap was burning my cheek, and I bit through my tears.

"You will never be worthy enough to be her Victoria! Your promise has nothing to do with me." I spilled my poison.

"If you only knew how much money I am spending on you...." She retaliated, after which she just dropped everything and left.

That night, I cried bitter tears of regret. If I had the wits that I have right now, and I could sit my past self in front of me, I would hug her. I would say, it's not your fault. I was just a child.

Average at school, I never was truly interested in studying. It was obvious that unless you were born rich, you will be middle-class at best.

But what I was interested in was learning to make money. The feeling of hopelessness I had when Victoria told me about my parent's disappearance, and our argument, was something I could not really forget, and I thought that if I had money, things would have been different. I wouldn't have to rely on her. Or on anyone. I wouldn't have to accept the humiliation that she or people like her were dishing out.

Money was the source of independence for me, and later, it only had more weight to it when the government postings would happen.

"Victoria, I want to make some money fast," I said.

"Why do you need such money Margaret?"

"I just... need it."

As if it was yesterday I remember that stupid talk I had with her when I was 18. Victoria had a brothel, and she was quite successful at it. I found that out myself from a brothel card that she had carelessly left in her coat.

So I faced her and told her I knew about it.

"I know what you do Victoria, and I know that there is quite a lot of money involved."

"Look, I don't encourage this kind of work, however, you are mature enough to make your own choices. If you are to do this, you have to take care..."

"Yeah yeah, I know we have sex-ed."

"Sure."

In the beginning, Victoria wanted me to make sure that I know what I was getting myself into. She also showed me other options such as a cleaner, or a cook, but I didn't care as I knew that the money that I would get by sleeping with them was higher than all other professions presented to me.  After 4 months, she finally let me work.

My first time was quite painful, and it was with an older man. He was perhaps in his early 30ies, and luckily for me, he didn't have some crazy fetishes that men in my line of work had. We didn't really introduce ourselves or chat. I do, however, remember the emerald eyes this man had and the thick jet-black hair. I also remember the slight curvature of his posture, which indicated to me that this man either led a sedentary life or was a farm worker. Probably the latter, because of the earthy scent his skin oozed with.

I was stupid enough to allow him to take the condom off for an extra dime.

Several months later, I realized that my period stopped.