A Day of Girl's Life.

The morning was BEAUTIFUL. Yellow sun shining through your window promising a good weather throughout the day. You sang in your bath, had a good cup of coffee, scratched your dog's neck and headed out the door.

You're out the door. Three little steps down and you'll be on your way. The time is 8.00am.

Across the street, the middle-aged postman drinks in your denim shorts and tank top. He looks at you in the eye and wiggles his eyebrows. You cringe but continue walking. Just hope he doesn't make a mental note to approach you or something.

At the bus stop, you found a seat. Breathing a sigh of relief, you wait for your bus. You took out your book, hunched a little, placing the book on your knees. You didn't realize your cleavage was showing, all of 2 inch - not even remotely close to scandalous.

The man in the business suit moves closer to stand beside you. You took notice but ignored it. The book is at a good part.

The teenage boy saw your hunching form from a far. He sees the man in the business suit peeking from above your head.

Teenage Boy moves in closer to you. Saw what the man in the business suit sees. Joins.

The bus arrived shortly. You get on it and found no seats so you stood next to a balding man in a long sleeved shirt. Sitting down in front of you, a teenage boy is on eye level with your bosom. The bus moves slowly due to traffic. Your sling back on the shoulder starts to ache, so you moved the strap between your breasts, unknowingly accentuating the shape. Balding Man licks his lips and looks away when you glance at his direction. You bite your cheek and say to yourself it'll be over soon. Meanwhile, Sitting Teenager enjoys the view from the corner of his eye. You did nothing to earn that.

Your destination reached. You wedge your way between the sardined bus to get down from the bus. A hand squeezes your right butt.

Not wanting to make a scene, you resorted to pushing people out of your way in your haste to not let an elbow 'accidentally' poke your breast.

You're out. Your campus is mere 10 meters. There's a bunch of guys constructing the new signboard of your college. Man A nudges his friend, Man B, to look in your general direction.

Man B hoots. Losing temper, you showed them your only weapon - your middle finger. Man A and Man B laughs at your feeble attempt. Fat lot of good that did.
The girls at the doorstep saw everything. An audible chorus of snickers was heard as you pass by them, a not-so-subtle voice among them said, "what a whore".

Mindlessly you walked to your class and sat at your designated seat number. Frontmost row. This is the class of the professor who had his unwelcome hand on your thigh last semester.

Resigning, you looked at your watch. 10am. All in a span of two hours, the girl faced harrasment from nine different males. And this only in the morning.

She still had the afternoon and night to go through.