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Description:Righting myself, I put my free foot back on the ground to rest for a moment, then tried again, pulling myself up and fighting, puppet-like, against my bonds. But my pride was still uppermost — the idea of having to draw the attention of others to my humiliating plight still seemed unthinkable. I was losing strength, but full of adrenaline, my face dragging along the woodland floor, leaving me spitting twigs. Exhausted, battered and finally beaten, I accepted I was going to need help. I became worried that the circulation in my right ankle, which was raised awkwardly at head height, was being cut off by the tightening knot and that I might even end up losing my foot. My position meant it was hard to breathe, too.

Views: 9192 Date: 2018-12-31 Favorited: 60