The hair on my legs stood on end. Then, the feeling of needles grazing the flesh of my arm announced itself to my brain. It began pumping through my arteries. My blood ran cold. My stomach lurched. Junk sickness seized me. My body was in revolt and demanded a call to arms.
The man and I had been fighting. His face, pink with a slick of sweat, was full of fury and glee. All I will say is that it was an automatic reaction. It came on without consideration. I burst into tears.
All they did was moved me from one facility to another. And I saw my attacker again not too long after I tolded on him. Then I paid for it. Because I tolded on him, and he got even with me. So after that, I would not, did not tell again.