10-22-2009, 07:23 AM
[html]childhood repression: an expert at work
He twisted his leg, and gave a whimper. No! Rope only tangled around it another time. His form hung halfway suspended from a low branch; trapped by ropes tightening everywhere. He was so clumsy! He hadn't even seen the unsettled coil of rope lying on the ground until it had grabbed his leg, and the more he fought it, the tighter it became. His struggle had led him to move around panic-stricken, moving too close to a low branch for his own good. A part of the rope around his shoulder caught on, and now he stood with three legs on the ground and a pained look on his face. Oh, how would he ever get himself out of this?! Now he was still, but waves of panic still shook the poor male. He was afraid of small and closed spaces, and although these ropes weren't the same he was still confined - trapped! Fear of becoming trapped was perhaps the fear behind his claustrophobia. He gave another small whimper before attempting to move his elevated shoulder. His legs were starting to hurt because he strained them to keep himself up, and his shoulder had a strange, prickling sensation. If he had been more intelligent he would perhaps have recognized it as the lack of blood flow, but he did not. All he knew was that he was miserable, and now his whimpers grew louder, until it became more of a stream of whimpers, broken every now and then with a half-hearted, mewl-like wail.. Hanging from the branch was a saddened and heavy and broken young male, who could not decide whether he wanted someone to find him or not. Oh, the embarrassement!
He twisted his leg, and gave a whimper. No! Rope only tangled around it another time. His form hung halfway suspended from a low branch; trapped by ropes tightening everywhere. He was so clumsy! He hadn't even seen the unsettled coil of rope lying on the ground until it had grabbed his leg, and the more he fought it, the tighter it became. His struggle had led him to move around panic-stricken, moving too close to a low branch for his own good. A part of the rope around his shoulder caught on, and now he stood with three legs on the ground and a pained look on his face. Oh, how would he ever get himself out of this?! Now he was still, but waves of panic still shook the poor male. He was afraid of small and closed spaces, and although these ropes weren't the same he was still confined - trapped! Fear of becoming trapped was perhaps the fear behind his claustrophobia. He gave another small whimper before attempting to move his elevated shoulder. His legs were starting to hurt because he strained them to keep himself up, and his shoulder had a strange, prickling sensation. If he had been more intelligent he would perhaps have recognized it as the lack of blood flow, but he did not. All he knew was that he was miserable, and now his whimpers grew louder, until it became more of a stream of whimpers, broken every now and then with a half-hearted, mewl-like wail.. Hanging from the branch was a saddened and heavy and broken young male, who could not decide whether he wanted someone to find him or not. Oh, the embarrassement!