Goal- to mirror my beginning and ending
The grip, as they call it was a particularly brutal punishment , it would beat your skin raw leaving bruises and scars. The rope stained with crimson blood constantly moving and vibrating. Tears glazed the victims eyes . You stood motionless as though you where a brass statue, perfectly still with the rope rubbing and moving, your tears staying pearched perfectly underneath your eye. The guards watching with a smirk, the public chanting as the guards push them back onto the narrow pavement. You throat dry from you constantly trying to scream. The grip as they call it was a particularly brutal punishment.