"Stop! You know already I can't stand you, leave me the fuck alone!" I yelled at him as he continued to taunt me. "You know that isn't anyway to talk to me. You're my maid, so you're my property" he smirked, as I fumed with anger. Mark Tuan. Two words that sent Irene into a world of many different emotions. He tests her patience and teases her non-stop, but she couldn't do anything due to him being her boss. She was only his Maid after all...

There really wasn't any stopping it. It wasn't my fault that my skin was as dark as the night, or my nose was broader than any other's, my hair was always rough looking and broke easily. There was nothing I could do, because to them I will and always will be, the black girl. HR: #3 Short Story Graphic by caesium-

Is my persistence healthy, or is it a form of insanity? All aspiring authors struggle, but I am an outlier. It's rare when I meet someone who's worked at it for as long as I have, without giving up. Included: Some of my various attempts to create the perfect first chapter for "City of Slaves."