Still shackled, gagged and naked, I’m being led by those cuffs out to what can only be that gruesome death promised me. We’ve crossed the sports courts and lawn. Staggering to keep pace due to my bare feet, recent beating and the heavy canvas bag slung around my neck, I whimper pitifully as my vengeful lover drags me off the soft grass and on into that spooky primeval forest.
Ever deeper into her family’s vast holdings we head, our path marked by narrow ribbons of florescent orange that have been tied (temporarily I’m sure) to a series of trees.
One could follow this route drunk in the dark, which isn’t as reassuring as it might be. It’s a reminder of the pathless vastness all about. And sharp sticks and stones underfoot aside, it’s a hard enough route at high noon. Cara deliberately ben
