The Silence of My Voice

Workplaces all over the world are dreadfully condemnatory, and discriminatory. And, at times blindly run, as well. What dictates us to mostly continue dwell there is either love for what we do, or necessity. I've followed suit to the prior, but the latter must be a load of pants. Like I said  here  yesterday. Ambition.  There's a price to pay to for indulging in it. And, that price is your independence. When you rise from the ground up, there's a lot to ameliorate from being zealous, because you gain more than what you had. When you already have a cushion to launch off of, you're in the position to be enriched by others' ambitions.  Like I said yesterday, need because of greed is ambition, and the price of that is your independence. Need because of need is helplessness, and this time, peace is the price to pay. And, with your peace as the price to pay, the one thing you're never able to do is surround yourself with people who would share a quid pro quo with you,...

"You pretty nicely seem to have forgotten your manners. Do not raise your voice in front of me like that again!", another of Natasha's if-you're-younger-be-nice toned scream came out. The maid silently cleared the bed of the quilts she was setting for the night, and marched out of the room realising this was not going to be good. "I am not a child anymore, Nata. Stop telling all the time what to do.", Samantha screamed back. Natasha, dazed, stared at her little sister. Only that she wasn't little anymore. She had transformed into a woman, and a fierce one at that.  "Then stop acting like one.", Natasha countered.  Samantha kept glaring back with such fury that she was burning inside. Ashamed on talking in an unruly manner with her sister, she looked away, and she breathed down some sobs. Natasha, unable to see her sister cry, took a step towards her to comfort her. As she raised her hand in a gesture to stroke her face, Samantha retreated...