But that day I saw two of them who were as different as night and day. Here I was, sitting alone at the computer, trying to edit this book which I’m...trying to fix before sending it to my publisher. It’s about a fiction anthology about the life and loves of male and female villains in modern-day America. I came to the community college library to work on it because my sociopathic aunt Gabrielle’s son Michael and daughter Cassandra are hogging up the computer at home. That is when her husband. Her husband was a government servant and was teaching in a university. Almost a year before he got a deputation for a month in another city of the same state. Both of my uncle and my aunty were very close to our family and they often used to visit us too. Hence when uncle departed he asked my parents to take care of her wife and his child. Now my aunt often used to come to my home with her baby and talk to me and my mom a lot by the time her husband was out I got very close to her and started. She tossed herself onto her back once more, trying to find that one position that would draw out the slumber that she desired, but in the end, she knew that it was a lost cause.Her mind started to wander back to her earlier years, before her body decided to express itself into womanhood, back to the time when all she could ever do or hope for was playing and having fun. There were no responsibilities of grooming or hygiene or peer pressure that caused you to apply paint to your face or nails. . Just because you're rich you think you can buy me like a whore. I'm not a whore... or perhaps I am after what happened." Tears sprang to her eyes, "Keep your stinking help," she spat and went to move away but I gently put a restraining arm on her shoulder and she slumped wearily back in the chair. She no longer had the energy to resist."Calm down Nessa, as far as I'm concerned you are anything but a whore. I'm not rich although by your standards, I'm well off with my pension and the jobs I get.