Stitches

Stitches

She tried to scream. She tried to open her mouth, tried to make a sound, pulling at the sutures holding her lips shut. She felt the strings from the stitches pull into her skin, straining against herself. Tears sprang to her eyes as the string tore through her flesh. But her efforts were fruitless as she knew they would be. They grabbed her and threw her to the ground, her body falling silently onto the moss. She was surrounded, their hulking figures blocking out the sunlight. She squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain, waiting for the consequence she knew would come. She sat still as they used their familiar tactics on her. She didn’t flinch once, too used to the pain at this point. Their stitching was slow and deliberate, pulling at each suture as it emerged from her skin. When she tried to open her eyes, they remained shut.