Every time Jackson woke me, he was staring at my cleavage when I sat up. He tried to do it subtly but there really was no subtle way to do it. “Well...” I asked sternly. “Oh yes, bring in the breakfast,” he called to the door. I watched as my other two servants wheeled in a large tray of pancakes, waffles and French toast. I had always wanted more servants but these three were the only people who could see past the supernatural powers I had, but then again, they were all outcasts when they came. Absently chewing on a pencil in class, she would suddenly recall having him in her mouth, the taste of him. At those moments she would blush to the roots of her hair, and have to look down, thankful for her long bangs and glasses. And it didn’t help that her history class was studying the Civil War. Every time she heard the word slavery it jolted her. She wondered if slaves then had to do the kinds of things she had done.And what about him? She could hardly bear to think about him. When. More

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