“And did he?”
“No. He wasn’t about to do that, the arrogant SOB. The things he said, like he despised me, like he took pleasure in degrading me, humiliating me. He has no right to do that!” I vented angrily. Afraid of my emotions, I stared down at my fidgeting hands, despondently. “Now, it all seems like a bad dream. But it wasn’t a dream, I swear.” I looked up at him pleadingly.
Tears continued to stream down my face. I hoped to have Jackson’s sympathy by now, but he continued to stare at me like an immovable statue. “What next?” he asked.
“I-I guess I panicked. I screamed at him to let me go, which he didn’t want to do. Finally, one of his students came to my rescue and started to untie me. But that was only after the photographer had my body photographed at least a hundred times. The
