I've Been Corrected, but What About You?

My throat was ruined. The doctor said I would need to recuperate for a few weeks before I would be able to speak.

After we returned from the hospital, both my parents looked grim.

My mother had clearly been crying. She caressed the injury at the corner of my mouth and said nothing, looking glum.

My father stood at the door, smoking. He eyed me suspiciously.

"Do you think that torturing yourself is going to work? What kind of act are you putting on with us? Everyone knows that you're full of nothing but bad intentions. I don't care what you're plotting, but you'd better behave!"

I turned pale at once. I couldn't speak, so all I could do was whimper and try to beg for mercy.

I struggled to pull out my drip and kneel on the floor so I could grovel.

I felt uneasy when I was sitting or lying down. I only felt comfortable when I was kneeling, because then I wouldn't get hit.

My mother moved quickly to press me back on the bed.

My father's expression softened slightly. He stubbed out his cigarette and scrutinized me long and hard. "You'd better not be acting!"

The two of them left in a hurry.

I saw a vague figure at the door.

The sound of her footsteps was very close to the door. She hovered there for a while, but soon disappeared.

As if I hadn't noticed, I closed my eyes to rest.

My welcome party fizzled out.

However, as soon as my throat had recovered, my parents organized a ball.

They claimed that it was a belated birthday party for me, and they invited all the socialites to attend.

The truth was that I had spent my birthday in a dark room with a rank smell.

The instructor had held the cake and grinned widely as he stomped on it. He had then spat a few globs of spit on it and monitored me as I ate it down one bite at a time.

However, I still agreed to the birthday party.

Deep down, I knew that even though it was called my birthday party, it was just a reason for socializing.

My family's business hadn't done well in the past, but for some reason, it had begun prospering in the past few years. They had now surpassed the previous family and had become the richest family in the city.

That was why they needed exposure and popularity, so that they could create social connections and find business partners. Arabella and I just had to play the part of being obedient dolls. It had been like that since we were children.

Before the party, my parents took us to pick out gowns.

In the VIP room, there was a dazzling array of gowns which the attendant had pushed out. My mother pulled me over enthusiastically to choose.

"These are all the newest styles of this season, and Arabella chose every single one personally! Look at how understanding she is! She said that you could choose first!"

Arabella smiled and nodded. She considerately took out a very luxurious dress. "Try this, Angel. It's the most expensive one among them."

The dress was exquisite and encrusted with elegant pearls, but it was extremely skimpy. It exposed almost the entire chest and thighs, especially at the collar, where a bright green python was entwined.

It made me think of how the instructor would force us to sleep with pythons back at the asylum.

He had claimed that it was to train our courage, but the truth was that he was training our compliance and preventing us from escaping.

At night, the python would always wind itself around my feet. The ice-cold, smooth feel of it was disgusting.

However, I hadn't dared to move at all.

As soon as I did, those sharp teeth would pierce my skin and bite me viciously. It wouldn't let go for the entire night.

"Could I exchange this for another one?"

My voice was timid, and I didn't dare to look at the dress.

However, my father got impatient and lobbed a mineral water bottle at me. It banged against my chest, and it hurt.

"Arabella is being so kind. Why can't you just accept it? Why are you being so fussy?"

My mother added, "That's right. Look at how beautiful this dress is. Why aren't you willing to even try it on? What acts are you putting on?"

Their voices were shrill, and I put my hands over my head in fear. "I'll wear it! I'll wear it!"

My mother smiled when I stopped resisting.

In the past, I would never have worn such a skimpy dress. I would rather have died.

That was why my mother looked so gleeful. She winked at my father. "Look at how obedient Angelica is now."

Before she could finish, she suddenly started screaming.

I had abruptly started pawing at my own clothes and tearing them off completely, until I was left only in my bra and panties.

I didn't care that there were a lot of salespeople in the VIP room, including both men and women.

They stared at me with their jaws dropped, but I had to take them off.

If I didn't, the instructor would whip me and splash a basin of pepper spray all over me. The wounds would swell and turn red until they began to ooze pus, and I would pass out from the pain.

Just as I was about to undo my bra, my mother stopped me quickly.

"Have you gone mad? What are you doing?"

She pushed me quickly into the dressing room and slapped me. "Don't you have any shame? Why are you undressing in public? Are you a prostitute?"

I apologized and put on the gown.

When I walked out, I heard the sound of a gasp.

I guessed that they had finally seen my body.

I was covered in scars.

Apart from the skin that was usually exposed, every inch of the skin beneath my collarbone was covered with dark holes from being burned with cigarettes.

There were pinch marks and even rotted flesh, which hung loosely on my back.

My mother caressed the array of scars and wept.

My father flung his cigarette away in terror and asked fearfully, "Who did this to you?"

As soon as I had put on the dress, I caught a strong whiff of pollen.

I didn't even need to think twice to know who was behind it.

I began to itch uncontrollably, and red marks appeared all over my flesh.

I started scratching furiously, tearing the scabs off my scars, which began oozing pus and blood. A pungent smell filled the air.

Arabella's gaze alighted on me, and for an instant, her eyes seemed to redden.

However, she soon looked away and said very regretfully to our parents, "Angelica's in such a terrible state. She seems to be having an allergic reaction. I'll have to go to that ball."

The salespeople had gotten suspicious and thought I was being abused. They called the police at once, and I was taken away by force.