"Lazy Girl!" a voice scolded as a foot met with said female's stomach; causing her to bend over and yelp out in pain. "You aren't finish with your duties. Hurry up slut!"
Pain surged through out her middle section as she winced from the new found pain her supervisor had given her. Apparently taking a small five minute breather was too much to ask.
"I said on your feet!" he yelled again, "Must I have to get your worthless mother and have her get you? Do you want her to lose the only job that pays enough to provide for you and your worthless family?"
The girl shook her head slowly in response as she was met with another kick in the stomach. Instantly, she hit the cold hard tile floor and curled into a defensive ball.
"Get up!"
She shook her head and he became even more pissed.
"Insolence! We will see what the boss says about you!"
A harsh cough escaped her throat as small traces of blood populated the polluted carbon dioxide as they made the newly mopped and waxed floor their new found home. Looking up to see that her supervisor had began to make his way down the hall, and more than likely to go rat her out like always to the boss, Zadora felt that it was her cue to get up before he came back with even harsher movements.
Slowly, the chocolate colored female rose to her feet as she occasionally held her petite stomach from sudden surges of pain and began to make her way towards her mother's quarters, hoping the woman would be there.
PRINCESSLADYPRINCESSLADY
Scribble…..scribble….scribble
"Mr.Ootori, she is just nothing but trouble. Her daughter needs to be put in place.
Scribble…..scribble…..scribble.
"Mr.Koshka, I am not nor will I ever become a baby sitter for my employees' children. It actually offends me that you would consider a man of my status as such."
Scribble…..scribble…..scribble….
"B-B-But….I thought that since you raised three fine well disciplined sons; you would have experience in this department."
Scribble….scribble……scribble….
"My son's were never defiant. They know who is and who will always be in authority."
Scribble…..scribble….
"B-B-B-ut she is constantly….."
"Who is her mother?" the older Japanese man interrupted.
"LaVana Williams sir."
"Ah" was his only reply as he slowly began to tighten his silk neck tie, "That's her abomination."
The stuttering male replied with a nod as he began to explain more of the situation at hand, leaving bits and pieces for the youngest Ootori heir to hear. Since their volume of speech was exceptionally low, only certain parts of the private conversation caught the boy's attention. Kyouya had heard the words, "Rape, Cuba, and Fidel Castro" all in one sentence and that alone was more than enough information to give him a strong stand point on the girl's background. In his mind, her mother was a typical Cuban refugee. One to meet a wealthy man, most likely of another race, fall in "love" and have an anchor child. In this case, said child would be the insubordinate female in question.
"Alright, let me pay a visit to Zadora."
"Thank you Mr. Ootori." He paused and bowed, "I alone cannot handle her disrespect."
With a slight nod, the middle aged man began to make his way out of his office while he made a hand gesture as he walked. Looking up, as if on cue, Kyouya snapped his notebook shut and began to obediently follow his father.
Princessladyprincesslady
"Mom?"
A woman in resemblance of skin complexion to the girl turned around from the illuminating computer screen and towards the front door.
"Zadora, aren't you supposed to be on duty?"
The girl nodded as she quickly made her way into the rather poorly lighted room and sat next down to the woman. "Mom, I hate working here. I hate living here even more!"
"Zadora we been through this."
"Why can't we go see daddy?"
The woman winced at the question and slowly began to turn her head. Zadora knew she struck a cord then by bringing up her father. It just brought back too many painful memories for her mother to cope with while it slowly reopened slow healing wounds.
"Zadora don't e stupid. You know why we can't
"But…..daddy has money. Why can't he give us some?"
"You know why Zadora!" she said while raising her voice, "You're not ten anymore. You are fifteen and fully capable of knowing WHY we cannot see your father."
Zadora fell quiet as she slowly lowered her head, allowing her jet black hair to cover her face in shame. She solemnly began to regret ever bringing up the subject of her father for she knew it would most likely bring nothing but trouble from the conversation. In a result, her mother too fell quiet as a thick blanket of silence fell over the two, creating nothing but awkwardness for what seemed like eternity.
Breaking the silence, the sound of a door creaking open shocked both women as they looked up to see Mr.Ootori and Zadora's supervisor standing in the doorway with a teenage boy right by their side. Judging from his close resemblance of features to Mr.Ootori, Zadora could immediately tell that the younger male was in fact Mr.Ootori's son.
"LaVana" the supervisor began, "I told your daughter to finish her duties but she refused. In a result my anger got the best of me and resulted in a form of physical punishment, one for I am not apologizing for."
"YOU HAVE NO RIGH TO LAY HAND ON MY CHILD!" She suddenly lashed out, causing Zadora to raise her head in alarm.
"But many of men can?"
LaVana fell quiet and he immediately knew he had gotten her.
With an evil smirk, the supervisor made his way over to the older woman and grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to make eye contact with him while doing so. Turning around to look at his boss, he could see that Yoshio had given the nod of approval for him to act and like an obedient little man, he did.
A loud clap sounded thorough out the room as it echoed through the now crowded halls; full of people wanting to see what had happened. Smirking in satisfaction at the hand print embedded on the woman's cheek, Hitamo stepped back slightly and allowed the woman's head to fall in shame.
Feeling anger develop in the pits of her soul, Zadora got heated as she fought back the urge to do the same to Mr. Koshka. All her life she had witnessed the beating of her mother and never could have the courage to speak loud enough for anyone to her. She always was led on the impression that her mother "Had it coming" and "Deserved it" from the other females in her town; but she felt different. No woman, no matter what she had done, deserved to get hit by any man. She had witnessed it from her father and accepted it when she should have spoken up. She sure as hell wasn't about to let a man she didn't even know, let alone favor, lay hands on her mother.
"What the hell is your problem!?"
Receiving attention from the three men, Zadora was now center stage.
"Stay in your place little wench."
"How dare you hit my mother!" She yelled out unto Hitamo, "You have NO right to lay hands on her!"
The man smirked as he grabbed the girl's wrists roughly and yanked her towards his lofty form. "Stay in your place child! You wouldn't want me to do what I did to your mother to you would you?"
Having enough intimidation, Zadora gathered up enough will power and spat on Mr.Koshka's face; having him immediately release her.
"YOU WON'T TOUCH ME!"
Then, another loud clap was heard as hot tears silently hit the floor. Holding her face lightly, Zadora tried to ail the sudden pain that formed on her cheek from the slap while trying to hide her face in disgrace. Adverting her eyes from the tile floor and onto the ones of the hands owner, Zadora saw that it was not Mr. Koshka who slapped her, but Yoshio Ootori. His eyes were read emotionless but his act read aggravation. She had suddenly realized why it was best to only report silence.
"You have disgraced your mother and yourself by having the audacity to emit such malevolent discharge and allow it to escape your mouth and onto the face of a man."
Zadora wanted to speak but she knew it wasn't her place to. Instead, she stayed quiet and endured the intense numbness of her cheek as her mother interjected into the conversation.
"Gomen Yoshio Ootori, please forgive my daughter's behavior."
"Teach your child some…."
"Hitamo." Yoshio's voice echoed through out the room in sternness, "Silence."
Nodding apologetically, Hitamo allowed Yoshio to continue.
"It seems you have taken advantage of our generosity."
"No!" she yelped out, "Not at all. Please, allow me to make it up to you. Anything I can do I will not hesitate."
Mr.Ootori diverted his attention from the pleading woman and unto Zadora. He began to carefully examine the girl and made mental notes on her figure. Looking back at the girls mother, Yoshio allowed an evil grin to plaster upon his face.
"You daughter."
LaVana looked from the middle aged Japanese man and unto her daughter's now astonished form. "What…about her?"
"Next week is my youngest son's birthday. He'll be seventeen and I would like Zadora to be his first gift."
This caught Kyouya's attention as he looked at his father in his usual stoic way.
"Zadora?" her mother asked, as if she didn't hear the first time.
Mr.Ootori nodded as he examined the chocolate beauty once more. "A gift…." He paused and turned to look at Kyouya, "From daddy."
With heavy remorse, LaVana grasped her daughter's hand and pushed her towards the arm's of the middle aged man; and being a good little girl, Zadora said nothing.
