//16-year-old Terin Mainfeld lives in the disgusting capital city of her country where women do not have a place in the workplace, guilds, or really anywhere acceptable in society. Instead, she must fend for herself and her ten-year-old twin sisters, Elina and Amera. She is willing to do whatever it takes to keep them alive. And if she gets to steal from a few of the people she despises most in the world, then so be it. Inspired by The Handmaids Tale, a Hulu Original series premiering April 26th.*Only a 500-word entry for a contest :)*//
"Get back here, you thieving scum!" A shop owner bellowed from somewhere behind me. I risked a glance over my shoulder and swore, pushing my pace as I dodged nimbly between the other market goers. The commoners were used to my fellow pickpockets and me. Many of the thieves were caught, anyway. I wasn't. Well, usually.
I darted into a shadowy alley to my left, feet pounding on the uneven cobblestones.
The shop owner rounded the corner with a roar, huge torso blocking the entire alley. My eyes finally adjusted to the shadows and widened. Dead end.
"I've got...you now... you dirty... rat!" The shop owner laughed manically behind me between gasps for breath, as his rodent eyes beheld the wall looming up before us. I might be a thief, but a rat? That was a bit uncalled for.
I turned and backed up against the wall, eyes darting back and forth as I analyzed my surroundings. The shop owner, now baring his teeth in a gruesome impression of a victory grin, stalked towards me. Or as well as someone who was about 5 feet wide could stalk.
"What kind of a man are you?" He sneered. "So incapable of producing your own profits that you resort to stealing from hardworking, acceptable gentlemen?"
I almost snorted. Hardworking and acceptable were not two adjectives I would've used to describe him.
"What kind of a man am I?" I mused, crossing my arms and leaning leisurely against the disgustingly moist wall behind my back. A little voice in my head that had the pitch of a 4-year-old boy screeched at me to make a run for it. I ignored it. "Well you see, my good man," I said scathingly, "If I were a man, I would say that I was merely the kind who found pleasure in taking from the... more indecent members of society."
His beady eyes stared at me uncomprehendingly. "If I were a man," I said, now stalking towards him, "I would tell you that you disgust me and that every time I see you enter that brothel you frequent, I want to throttle you."
He gulped visibly.
"But as I am not a man," I said, slowly pulling down the hood of my cloak and shaking out my long red hair so it framed my face, "I would not dare to say those things. I think that I should go home and start preparing for the next ball, wouldn't you agree? Like the proper little lady that I am."
He gaped at me now, greasy face turning red in anger and disbelief.
"Ta ta," I said, whistling merrily as I shoved past him, swinging my bag of loot. I pulled my hood back over my hair, sending my face into shadows as I strolled into the throng of people who had no idea a woman who dared to do anything but primp and cook and flutter her eyelashes was in their midst.
