By becca-mac on Skatehive
"Build a bridge and get over it," he said scornfully the words tinged with more than a little venom, almost unchecked malice. It was meant to hurt. It felt like a physical blow. She felt detached, as if her awareness had run away not minding that its physical body was left behind to bear the brunt of the physical attack that would surely come next. She shrank further within herself into a place she'd once felt safe from the emotional turmoil, vicious words and threats but as the layers of her being were stripped away that place held less comfort, it felt more like a prison. She felt made of glass, easy to see through and always on the verge of breaking. His grip was vice-like, her wrist shackled in its immovable force. She tried to break it and was rewarded with a sharp slap across the face from his other hand...she endured the pain of both and tried to remove herself emotionally, deeper inside she went and the pain, mercifully, seemed unable to follow. I took this image in Paris His h