When I was ten, I sat in my room near the door and listened as best I could as my mom watched the miniseries, Lace. I was utterly fascinated by this several part show, even though I only caught bits and pieces of it. And in the weird way that only the budding psychosexual mind of a tween can twist things around, I had this whole crazy idea about the plot.
In my little girl mind, this show was about a woman who grew up and got revenge on the three women who, as teenagers, gave birth to her and sold her into sex slavery. I imagined the whole rest of the story (the parts I didn't get to hear) revolved around all the horrible sexy things she had to do in order to get to these women. I also imagined it focused quite a lot on their glee as teenagers in knowing this kid would be harmed because of course they had to be evil.
I actually had this whole little strange part of my imagination about things like this. I have no idea why. The things we imagine as kids sometimes see so far more horrifying when we, as adults, understand the grim reality of them.
Recently, I remembered this whole Lace obsession. I wikied it and the plot was only marginally what I thought it was. The girl does confront the three women, but only because she wants to know which one is her mother. She wasn't sold into sex slavery. She was adopted privately and the whole scandal revolved around the fact that it was such a forbidden thing to have a baby out of wedlock at this time. In the end, she finds the one who is her mother and they hug. That's seriously and disappointingly it.
Then again, VC Andrews didn't write this, so I shouldn't be surprised.
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