I am not a wave. I am the ocean. I have not crashed and broken. I rise, I fall, I rise once more. Tired, yes, but stronger, wiser, than before. It may take time for me to mend but as long as I breathe-it is not, will not, be the end. ~Doe Zantamata
"NO! Leave him alone! PLEASE!" One of the boys pushed me back into his gang. They held me back as I squirmed in their arms, useless. Ash covered his face, unable to move. Over and over and over, the boys kicked at his stomach, leaving bruises and scars. I could do nothing...
We were never allowed to glance the Royal's way. They were untouchable. None of us servant kids dared to even notice their beautiful dark skinned faces, or their silk or satin clothing.
-can't we just be kids before we either grow up or fly away to neverland?-
“Nice of you to join us, Miss Lindstrom,” Fuller said in a gravelly voice. “This seat’s for you.” He pointed to the one in front of Nathan. She slipped into the vacant chair and her long thick hair brushed Nathan’s desktop. He caught a whiff of fresh rain and musk and swallowed hard. His palms went clammy, his mouth dry. How was he going to get through a whole year with the scent of such a wicked angel hovering around him like an enchanted mist?
T H E _ C O L L E C T O R
Domestic violence can happen to anyone. Photography by Debbie Deboo Model Felicity McKee