Glancing, looking away, steeling herself, glancing back. The leather ties that would bind her ankles. Looking away. Looking away. The smooth, dark woo... over which they’d have her bend, the ties for her wrists on the opposite side. Looking away. Looking away.She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. It was cold. So cold, sitting here, naked, on this solitary plastic chair. A single bulb hung above her, the only frail source of light or warmth in this lonely place.She’d been caned on. While continuing to speak, emboldened by her actions, his arm went around her and slyly pulled her close to his side. "Exercise, you mean you exercise horses? Why is that?" she asked with a smile at the new closeness of my dad. "I mean, do they so jumping jacks or sit-ups?" laughing at the obvious joke."Ha, very clever as well as beautiful," dad quipped to her. "By exercise, it means training in proper behavior. Untrained horses are 'Unruly' and difficult to deal with, and these exercises help. The knife in his hands, he looked at his mother on the phone. ‘Bloody hell’ he whispered to himself ‘This isn’t real after all. You’re expecting me to stab her, aren’t you? You want to take me back to the beginning?’ He didn’t know who he was talking to exactly, but he knew something was watching, waiting for his next move. He smiled to himself. ‘Think you’ll have better luck next time do you?’ His arm raised, but he did not step towards his mother. His lips curled in a feral little smile.. The cannons fire---boom---boom---boom. The fireworks are shooting high above the stadium---coke and pop corn are flying everywhere. The fans rush the field—elevating Carlise high above. TV crews and radio announcers come out of the woodwork—all heading towards me. I deflect them off---pointing towards Carlise. They seemed to understand, and rushed towards him. I head straight for the lockeroom. I couldn't contain myself. As some of the team began coming in behind me, they all start in on.