Bent

She lay bent in half beneath the tree, her skirt ripped and tights torn. Leaves scrambled within her hair hide the bruising. A long buttercup plucked too soon lay within her view. Blood trickled down her thigh. Looking down she carefully placed her breast back behind the lace with a shaking hand. The only comfort found was the coarse bark protecting her from the wind. She wasn’t ready to move just yet.