He picked me up in both hands, right hand holding my legs by the ankles and left hand holding my left arm against my chest, and then he threw me on the ground. It was hard - as hard as he could throw, I think. I lay there with all the breath out of me, staring up at the dismay and realization creeping over his face, dissolving the flash of his anger. I was unable to cry or speak or even move my diaphragm. There was a paralyzing pain in my chest and my crotch. "I didn't mean it," he said, kneeling over me. "You all right? You okay, Chuck?" Chuck was what he called me when we were playing toss in the backyard.

Godt sagt! (0) Varsle Svar

Sist sett

DemeterHeidi BBMarit HåverstadAud Merete RambølKirsten LundG LNorahRagnar TømmerstøSiri S.Astrid Terese Bjorland SkjeggerudMonica CarlsenTorill RevheimVidar RingstrømMonaBLEli HagelundAgnesAnne Berit GrønbechDaffy EnglundHilde MjelvaJane Foss HaugenSigrid Blytt TøsdalPiippokattaEivind  VaksvikTanteMamieLilleviMathildeTurid KjendlieAnniken RøilTor-Arne JensenTone HToveRonnyPär J ThorssonmarvikkisCatrine Olsen ArnesenStig TSigrid NygaardHanne Cathrine AasBenedikteMarianne  Skage