TWO Nastasya
I swear to fucking God, I cannot breathe in the ridiculous shit my mother makes me wear. I argued that all the girls these days wear form-fitting dresses, but my traditional mother asserted that I wouldn’t find myself a suitor if I insisted on dressing like a two-dollar hooker. I’m fucking seventeen, not sixty. I don’t care a damn about a husband right now. All I want to do is be able to breathe while I endure these stupid shows of money and power.
“Better?”