Have you ever felt contemptibly inadequate, struggling to maintain your rightful status?Have you ever had to hold your hope on something that would either help or disgrace you? No, of course not. You do not live in these times, you are probably a Handmaid as well. At the sight of me, you will probably not care, or want to know who I am. You will simply live in my house, eat what we have, and immerse yourself into what ever shallow thoughts you have of your own life, and forget me. Probably just like my own Handmaid.

I remember when I first met her...

She was escorted by a Guardian, the custom, and I just wanted to get this introduction over with. As soon as I saw the van from the window, I stood behind the door to wait for her. When I opened the door, there she was, standing stiffly in front of me; obviously anxious to lose sight of me. Not even when I stood there in front of her, waiting for a sign of respect did she stir in response. She did not care. There I was, obliged to withstand her, succumb to her to encase the embryo that should have been mine, and she did not care if it died or survived. I did not want to waste myself on her. I huffed, and told her to come in. She was going to give me what I wanted, she was going to... right?

Serena Joy: the name I chose over my birthgiven one, Pam. I sit here, sometimes stand, in my sitting room, maybe unrustle my blue dress, and think, just to pass time. Not too much, however, or I might give myself a brain hemorrage, over how being married to Fred once was my happiness, and now might as well be my punishment. Every night, while I lay in bed, I dose off into the intimate nights he and I spent, and I am full of joy. But the momentary happiness is replaced when the Handmaid, in her overpowering red dress, walks into the room, and takes my place with Fred, and he doesn't do a thing to stop her...