❝ anger is a bitter lock. but you can turn it. ❞
women have only two choices in this life: to fuck or be fucked. camille gets fucked. she always has. adora calls her willful, calls her spiteful, calls her incorrigible, and maybe she is but she’s still getting fucked. amma though, camille can tell, is the kind of girl who fucks.
it’s a terrible thing to think of. she’s only a little girl. 15. she can’t even vote, can’t even get her driver’s license. she still plays with dolls. but she wields her womanhood like a spiteful goddess. aphrodite must have looked like a girl too. maybe even younger than amma, disgusting as the ancient greeks were.
camille turns to face her, tries to assess. amma is nothing like marian and camille can’t help but resent her. bratty, demanding, spiteful, reveling in her prettiness as it keeps her well-liked…but camille admires it. envies it. amma has control and that’s what she’s telling camille now, isn’t it? stop crying and do something for shit’s sake. “what do you have to be so angry about, amma?”