Nina's Fabulous Life 1 Introduction Of Myself

Some are lucky enough to be born with a silver spoon in their mouths. The majority open their eyes to a common but satisfying world, while the last group breathe stale air from birth.

I am part of this last group of children to whom fate has offered few advantages from the beginning and yet I live it perfectly well.
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"Miss Benson, you will understand that this time we cannot turn a blind eye to your actions. You have been arrested three times in less than a month for theft from the same supermarket and it goes without saying that the director of this establishment is getting tired. I won't hide from you either that he's already filed a complaint against you."

"b.a.s.t.a.r.d, all this for a bunch of sanitary napkins."

The policeman looks at me sideways. Does he have some kind of squint? "Yes, as well as batteries, two ribs of beef, a pack of cakes and razors. Let's move on! Although you have been used to this house for more than 8 years, as usual, I will take up some information about you. Name?"

I like this moment. Each time, it allows me to remember my first visit here, as well as my childhood. Proudly, I adjust my position in the chair to be comfortable, cross my long legs, then I exhibit my b.r.e.a.s.t.s which are for some reason, surprisingly big, today.

"Nina Benson."

"He has nothing to be proud of, you know. Well, it doesn't matter. Age?"

My mouth is a little dry. To make my words audible, I gently pa.s.s my tongue over my lips.

"15 years old."

The policeman steps back a little and closes one eye. As I thought, he must have an eye problem.

"Miss Benson, stop your charm act. It can work with my colleagues, but I'm 100% gay. Address?"

s.h.i.+t, they found the way to fight me. "12 blueberry Street, Brenville, New Jersey"

The triumphant little smile of this ugly policeman annoys me. "Family situation?"

Eh? Is that new? "Are you stupid or what? I'm 15 years old, so how can I be married? Single, dumb-a.s.s."

When the policeman's forehead folds, I smile back. "Be polite, Miss Benson. Right now, you're not in a position to play the smart girls. Professional situation?"

He has my student card in his hands, but he's asking me this stupid question. No more doubts, he wants to p.i.s.s me off.

"CEO at Matel."

He makes a (tsch), with his mouth, I play with my hair. "Your parents' phone number?"

A trick question. "Director Coock, Brenville Children's Home, number unknown."

"Miss Benson, I will contact the person responsible for you. However, I can only advise you too much to go apologize to the supermarket manager. Who knows, maybe then he'll agree to withdraw his complaint."

I pout. "Who do you think I am? If he had taken into account my precarious social situation, he would have considered it as a gift to the poor. I refuse to stoop to see this man to pump his glans."

"You're really very vulgar. We're done, so follow me."

05h00pm

That's the way fate is. From the beginning, I, Nina Benson, the police and the supermarket are supposed to have a close relations.h.i.+p.

A little over 15 years ago, a patrolling police officer heard baby crying from the garbage containers of my favorite supermarket. Amazed by the magnificent voice, he immediately went to the source of the noise and discovered a little girl struggling among the half-mouldy vegetables.

The little girl was more beautiful than a fairy. Blonde with blue eyes, she emanated an aura that instantly charmed this police officer on patrol. He was so touchedthat he immediately turned her over to social services.

The little angel grew up peacefully in a city of 25,000 inhabitants and she soon attracted all eyes.

"Nina, Nina, are you listening to me?"

"Oh, excuse me, Betty. I was immersed in such complex thinking that my mind momentarily moved away from the jail."

The one who's grinning is my friend Betty. My friend Betty is 42 years old. She is one of the three prost.i.tutes in our small town and we are used to to be together behind these bars.

"Okay, but like I said, the mayor is really very cheap. Imagine that! After I sucked him, he threw 20 lousy dollars at me, before he left. Ah, working life is getting harder and harder."

I sympathize with my friend's pain. "I know. My teachers are the same. Before, my micro-skirts allowed me to collect B+ and you know what? For some time now, I've only been getting B's. They're getting really greedy. I'm sure these old perverts are waiting for me to come naked to the High School to reward me."

Betty and I are spitting on the floor. "d.a.m.n men, all of them rotten."

Completely agreeing with my friend, I cross my arms before my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and I adopt a revolted position. "As you say, but in order to raise my average, I stole an even shorter skirt."

She nods. "You are right. For my part, I got the brand new mouthwash to prevent and fight diseases."