I had a bloody face, my body ached and Rogers stood there like a demi-good with bloody fists. He scared the hell out of me, but what I feared the most is the fact that I could not defend myself.
'Scar, you are a weakling, the biggest coward the history of the wolf will leave to accomplish, you should wake up and fight for yourself,' Golden's voice sounded in my head.
I knew it was his role for him to help me, but, here he is, just mocking me.
I had been beaten to the bones, I feel extreme pains that could make me want to pass out.
This is something that I could not explain, I am a wussy.
This beaten gave me a sense of nostalgia, a longing for the tines that dad slashed his rod severally on my skin.
Each time Rogers' booted feet collided with my skin, it gave me a new hormonal behavior, constantly waiting for the next to come up, it hurts.
Seeing Rogers from half-closed eyelids, I wondered if she was going to hit me more.