Nike could feel the woman on the side of her, a needle point stabbing into her delicate skin as she almost whimpered. This was the one thing she hated about going shopping. Getting the uniform. She stifled another yelp as the woman prodded her with the tip of another needle.
"Stay still young miss. You wouldn't want the needle to hurt you, would ya?" Came the sarcastic drawling of her seamstress. Nike twitched. Oh, how she would love to wrap her hands around the woman's throat as she slowly started to stab the beetch with as many needles as she could find. Her hazel eyes glinted with just a hint of madness and the urge to do something violent.
"Are you almost done?" She asked pointedly, no pun intended, trying hard not to cry as the woman stabbed her once more with a twelfth- or was it twentieth? Needle.
