free writing at work- the mind wandered and ended up here...

the slap brought with it all the force of the wind between father's palm and her face, all the power of his hate and his explicit desire to make sure the lesson sunk in. She reeled backward falling with a thud and still caught up in the momentum of the hit she rolled onto her back before she came to a halt. Every nerve on the left side of her face screamed in violent protest and her ears rung with the cannoning effect of the thunder clap of flesh on flesh. "Don't Trust, never trust." he was ontop of her before her eyes could regain focus. His accusing finger at her nose daring her defiant tears to break their ranks. She'd get it for sure if any water sprung loose from her eyes. But at five years old her heart didn't always heed the warning of the head. She knew what happened if she cried, if she whined, if she slipped for even a moment and wondered why she wasn't allowed to feel what she felt. She tasted the blood that pooled from the broken skin of her inner cheek and swallowed it quickly, feeling only a mild discomfort for the taste. Father always told them to get used to the taste and smell and color of blood even their own. "In the time of revolution, rivers of blood will be all around you. Never forget your objectives. Blood is your reward."