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Too Mistake, or Not

In the huge communal dining hall of the boarding school, two large tables stand along the upper room. All the children rejected from society find themselves at table, along with the ladies and other representatives of the education house, to eat the midday supper. As you might think, there weren't many of us. There were 15 boys and 13 girls, aged 14 to 22. I didn't know why an age restriction was put in place, but I knew it would happen if we exceeded the internment age beyond 22. Most of the people here were in the age range, maybe 3 or 4 were still minors. We were predestined to leave the institute after proving our faith or totally cleansing our sins, otherwise. Another future awaits us, that of staying permanently in this place. Girls became good sisters and boys were either choirmaster, priest, parish priest or even exorcist, for the more ambitious. Women had no other opportunity, for lack of Christian law.

At the height of my 20s, I had no great ambitions, but I in no way wish to become a sister, no thanks. Time flies, and soon I'll be forced to choose the fate of my poor life. My parents either didn't have time to take care of me, or they didn't want to. Regardless, it's not like I carry them strongly in my heart. After all, they were the ones who sent me to this place, to judge my act of pleasure as forbidden.

Sitting on a long bench, surrounded by my usual friends, I was of my rank the one who cut the dispersions between girls and boys. On the right side, are my peers and on the left, the opposite sex. The ladies and different teachers are in groups of four at each corner of the table, watching us while we eat. I watch Dame Anne-Catherine out of the corner of my eye, judging myself with every gesture. In particular my left hand, hidden under the table. My parents failed to teach me good manners, she was not the one who was going to succeed.

- Be careful, she will suspect something.

My eyes drift to Maddi, sitting opposite me. His eyes narrowed, in a fake innocent little smile, patting the hollow of his plate with his fork.

- I know what I'm doing.

My lips melt into a smirk and the fingers of my left hand squeeze the swollen, red piece of flesh. A small table shake beside me arose, followed by a short silence. The boy next door had just kicked his knee under the table. Mickaël, 18 years old, if I remember correctly.

- Stable behavior at the table, said Dame Mathilde at the end of the table on the left.

- Sorry., Moaned Mickaël, rubbing his knee.

The girls around me burst out laughing, accompanied by a few boys. Maddi gave me a discreet wink, leaning into the ear of the other boy next to her. Muted by everyone, I watch her full, full lips whisper things to her comrade. I watch them as I continue to eat, waiting for something concrete to our game. When I noticed that the boy beside her nodded discreetly, and that her cheeks had been red for several minutes, intensifying, as did her breathing. he tries to calm down. Maddi had just won the game, with a smirk. She puts her right hand back on the table, and grabs her fork.

- Successful to you.

Maddi said to me, starting to eat again with both elbows on the table.

If it was another girl, I wouldn't have liked the game after her. But Maddi Yarozu is a friend with whom I have shared my life for almost 3 years. A 20 year old Scottish girl like me. Maddi's presence at the institute boils down to a huge argument with his parents over drug and stip-tease issues in closed clubs. When I arrived here, it was one of the few who did not comment on my presence or my behavior. Just like Mina Vion, another girl.

If I had to sum up Maddi in 5 words, I would say, busty, very tall, and gorgeous. In another life, she could do Miss, with her pleasant physique. Her long, thick yellow hair goes perfectly with her developed physique and body model. Her blue eyes were a pleasure to watch, and her very gentle and motherly personality contrasted greatly with the impression she gave at first glance.

Then Mina Vion, 19, pure German. Very slightly taller than me physically, Mina breaks all stereotypes about Germans. Her slightly dark skin tone, and her curly, light brown hair tie in with her brown eyes. Although I am of French origin, I grew up exclusively in Scotland. Unlike her, who arrived 2 years ago, mainly speaking her language. She never knew why her parents came to bring her here, but she knew the reason. Because Mina had committed a crime similar to mine, that of losing her virginity while being a minor. But with a complete stranger. Like what, any sexual misconduct can be a pretext to send his child to a demonic ladies' boarding school.

My attention returns to my current task as my dish cools down before my eyes. Maddi nods at me to my male monologue to my left, who obviously still hadn't recovered from his knee. His head lowered to his partially empty plate, stares at an invisible point. Her brown hair falls over her crimson face, and her lips quiver with incredible pain. Which actually happens to be my hand, which pinch his thigh through his white shorts. I didn't know Mickael any more than that, but I had already figured out his character the second he spoke. Extremely shy and innocent, would be the appropriate words to describe him. My fingernails relax against the skin, revealing reddish marks all over her thigh, and her little hands grip with all her might the folds of her t-shirt. I could feel the reflections of the nail marks through my fingers.

- Do you want me to take my hand away? , I ask him whispering in his ear.

- I beg you.

Mickael stutters between two moans, restrained. Her tears in the corners of her eyes are begging to flow, and I pull my hand away, sighing quietly.

- You are not tough.

I signal to him by raising my hand on the table, and get my fork to eat. Maddi chuckled, and I shrug my shoulders as I continue to eat. The Lady Superior Anne-Catherine rose from the table and walked straight in the row, on my side. I vaguely check that my hands are clean, but Mickaël's presence next to me suddenly disappears. The Lady Superior had grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt to throw him to the ground, without any delicacy. His shorts crumpled and ajar, leaving a faint imagination of what it was to happen.

- How dare you practice this kind of depravity in the middle of a meal! It's intolerable !

Anne-Catherine scolded in a loud, deep voice, at poor Michael trying to get up from the fall. I turn my head towards him, who gives me a guilty look and I raise the chin towards the superior lady, impassive by my action.

- Don't try to fool me, I know it's you, she said, pointing to me.