Grace struggled desperately trying to escape from the captivity of the vile man. This was proving to be more than difficult. His hands clenched harder upon her wrist.
"oww! Your hurting me!" she bit her lip as it felt as though her bones were snapping where he was crunching them. The pain was unbareable, just at that moment she went with her natural instinct, and dug her nails into his hand. It pierced through layers of skin, scaring him deeply. He angrily shouted, and let her go. For a second, both of her arms felt numb, seen as the blood connection was cut off, until the feeling was slowly retrieved back to normal. The throbbing pain felt like a pulse. Horrifyingly enough, she could see drips of blood trickling down her fingers from his body; covering her manicured nails. It made her feel extremely dizzy and weak. She turned towards the wall trying to hide her fear.
Pacing up and down he snapped "YOU! It's your fault" he shouted. Rubbing his palms together and constantly touching is face, his body language suggested that he was stuck and struggling at how far he had gone. With only motors grumbeling in the background the wind grew stronger. He hesitantly watched the empty glass bottle roll back and forth balanced on a tiny pot hole.
"YOU!" he shouted. Grace silently prayed to God as she faced the wall. Her eyes were souldered together, and her face was moist from tears. Rooster reached out and grabbed the glass bottle. He swung it at her aiming for her side ad ribs. It smashed and tiny pieces of sharp daggers and scattered everywhere. Grace's eyes shot open. Her pupils narrowed as she gasped loudly. In shock, her breathing remained unstable.
What just happened? Grace felt sharp blades sliced her skin. She steadily tried to move but instead her legs wobbled and gave way, causing her to collapse. Her breathing was much heavier. Rooster sniggered. He knelt down grabbing the top of her dress and pulling her in closer. Her chest was constantly moving as she couldn't breathe and her head flopped back, because she had no support for her neck. Her cheek was touching his, she was Repeating the breathless whisper of the verb no, whilst sobbing silently
"well well well, my mum told me i shouldn't play with glass" he whispered and spat as he hissed. She could smell the whiskey, from his breath. Her fragile body couldn't take in the impact.
her blood was smothered on his filthy hand. He pressed his thumb against her face and slid it downwards causing a red line of her own blood drawn on her cheek. He pushed her back causing her head to smack the bricks. Before anyone could see, he fled the scene, leaving the lady to slowly slide into unconsciousness...