Pink spatula – a little teaser of things to come in Chaptae 18

I am determined to get the information out of Ms Pink. Even if she’s stronger than me. Nothing will stop me this time.

“Breakfast is ready.” Ms Pink bursts my thought bubbles as she appears before me. She bends and scoops me up from the bed as though I weigh nothing more than a bunch of grapes. Talk about feeling powerless.

Ms Pink lowers me onto the chair with the gentleness of a loyal dog and brings my breakfast to me. Holy princess-worthy eggs and toast. And I’m not talking ordinary eggs here. Hers come with extra sheen as the yolk wobbles precariously atop the egg white. It’s a work of art. It’s perfection. Is there anything Ms Pink can’t do?

“T-Thank you.”

“Eat.”

I dig in but there’s a lot of toast and I’m not a big eater. With a half piece of toast left, I push the plate away and lean back in my chair, sated and happy.

“Finish your food.”

“But I’m full.”

“Stupid human. Don’t waste food.” Ms Pink pushes the plate back under my nose. “Finish it.”

Oh God. I’m absolutely bursting at the seams. “I already ate two-and-a-half pieces of toast and the two eggs. I can’t eat anymore.”

“Finish it or you’ll be punished.”

“P-Punished?” I don’t want to be spanked again. “But I’m injured.”

“My methods of punishment are varied. Your leg will come to no harm.”

“But you didn’t tell me I have to finish my food first. And I didn’t ask for three pieces of toast.”

Ms Pink picks up the half piece of toast from my plate. “Open your mouth.”

I shake my head and press my lips together. “Mmm mmm!”

She rises from her chair while I remain stuck on mine since my leg is of no help to my situation. “Open. Your. Mouth.” The intensity of pink that glows from her eyes is an indication of the severity of my plight. But it’s too late to turn back. So I go all-in. Lips pressed tight, I shake my head again.

“Mmm mm mmm!”

Ms Pink doesn’t hesitate when she wraps one arm around me and dumps me over her shoulder.

“Mmm!”

She smacks my . “Shut up.”

I don’t want another smack so I obey. Ms Pink lowers me onto my bed and I lie on my back helplessly wondering what Ms Pink is going to do next. She closes the door and locks it. Oh no. That’s a bad omen.

Ms Pink dangles the half piece of toast over my face. “Finish it now.”

No. I keep still, mouth closed and watch as Ms Pink puts the plate of toast on my bedside table. I am taken by surprise when she turns around at supernatural vampire speed and strips me of my pyjamas shorts. To her credit, she doesn’t hurt my leg, but I’m not about to approve of what she’s doing. Neither will I lie here while Ms Pink strips me. Not anymore. However, my attempt to get up is quickly thwarted by a single finger against my shoulder.

She holds up the shorts with her other hand and looks at it with a frown. “Why do you like blue.”

I shrug, still struggling against the finger that is holding me flat on my back. “I just do. Why are you obsessed with pink?”

“It’s the best colour in the world.” Ms Pink flings my pyjama shorts behind her. “Your clothes belong in the trash.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Stupid human.” The pink in her eyes gains prominence and radiates as though powered by the sun. “You are in no position to object to anything I say or do.”

“It’s your responsibility to keep me safe. You said so yourself.”

“You are my responsibility. That includes disciplining you when you step out of line.”

“But I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Have you forgotten about this?” Ms Pink turns my head towards the plate of toast. “I have never allowed my claims to waste food and you will not be the first to break that rule.”

“It’s not my fault that I can’t finish my breakfast. You gave me too much toast.”

Just when I think the pink can’t get any stronger, it flares up, almost leaping out of her eyes like flames. “Stupid human. I own you. You will not use that tone on me.” She leans down and brings her face within a whisker of mine. “For that, I’ll make sure you’re sorry.”

Before I can blink twice, my wrists are fastened to the top corners of the bed frame with what feels like cuffs. How even—

“I will punish you for your disobedience and stupidity,” says Ms Pink.

Maybe defying her wasn’t such a good idea. But it’s too late for regrets. What I need is a distraction. A delay.

“Please, Ms Pink, don’t do it here. Sunny might come home and hear us.”

But Ms Pink ignores me.

“Where did you get the cuffs from?”

I stare as she rips pink Velcro straps from the back of her coat and secures them around my ankles, looping them around the other two corners of the bed frame before fastening them with the Velcro. I can’t even tell how it is done exactly—Ms Pink is moving at the speed of light—and now, I am stuck. Well and truly stuck. In a rather compromising position too, might I add. And to make things worse, she rips my pyjama top off, tearing it into shreds as though it were made of tracing pap