Chapter 7 Hateful Nun Part 1

I barely learned to read and write.I don't go to school much. We were too poor to look at: we had fleas, our skirts were torn, our legs were thin and dirty. Oh!People have been very generous to us! Every Thursday, my cousins ​​and I took turns going to the Cornett nuns to line up for the soup. Representatives of God on earth—so they called themselves! The Sisters of Cornett always had the look of rage, and their lips were so thin that the vitriol that came out of them must have rotted them away. How gracefully they humiliated me in public!Everyone else who comes here can't stand up straight like me.

These flea-covered little guys were with me all the way, and I wasn't ashamed. They looked at me, and what I saw in their eyes was sympathy.They're saying, "Everyone's the same, forget it. Then it's our turn!" What made me sad was the cold stares from the grownups who were pandering to the nasty nuns.Indeed, in the village, they have supreme power. The reason why I am called "Alice" is to commemorate a dead aunt. In order to completely eradicate Aunt Alice's rebellious character, Sister Connette found a torture that could make her submissive: once, they lost their temper, and then, in the middle of winter, pressed her head against the cold faucet Down.

As a result, her brain became congested and she died a few hours later. The nuns found such words to comfort grandma and said: "Mrs. Pullan, you can't get much out of her! She hasn't committed many crimes, and heaven is open to her." Has Aunt Alice really reached her heaven? She will be exactly like the Virgin Mary, who will give birth to a child in a mid-way apparition! The first part of the obsession with lace, or the start of a stage career. Grandma made me beautiful panties out of the trousers my mother had forgotten at home.I've grown into a huge fan of rustling trinkets of all kinds.At that time, the decorations were mainly beautiful lace, with openings on it, and wide ribbons could be worn.

I'm obsessed with lace, it's been a lifelong passion.In fact, when I was very young, my problem should have been cured.The following story is about the joke that fate played on me, when the play "Little Thumb" was performed in the town hall in my hometown. I was cast to play the ogre king because of my thick voice.At that time, I should have been eight or nine years old. Of course, under the trousers of the ogre king, I also secretly put on a pair of beautiful pants left by my mother.I still remember what it looked like now! The entire lower part of the pants is lace woven with crochet needles, at least twenty-five centimeters wide, with pink ribbons strung in the small cutouts of the lace.

I was even more excited when I thought that people in the whole village would see this beautiful lace. So, in the middle of the show, I managed to let the ogre king's trousers unwind and slide down to my feet.Just imagine the scene at that time!My mother's shorts were on full display, they were so long they hung down to my short boots. My heart was beating fast, waiting for the cheers.pity!All that was heard was hissing.When the curtain fell, Sister Connette, who was rehearsing the play, was so mad that she gave me two big mouthfuls.She was so strong, she was like a man, a man in women's clothes.

Of course, they suspected that I was causing trouble on purpose, so they kicked me out of the poorhouse. I have to deal with nuns, not because I have faith.In fact, the real reason is that when winter comes, grandma can get wooden shoes from them.Sometimes, they also let grandma go to vigil for the dead and let her distribute invitations. My only regret about leaving the poorhouse was not being able to act.My eyes were eagerly fixed on the stage: there was a beautiful fourteen-year-old Italian girl jumping up and down endlessly.I squatted down, admiring her beautiful buttocks tirelessly - pink, amber-shiny, round buttocks.In a word, a pair of glorious butts!She was wearing only a skirt, which just happened to make my wish come true!

I asked myself honestly, but I never figured it out: Is it the round curve that fascinates me, or... because I have mixed some kind of desire for turmoil in my heart!