And then came the pain. First in her leg, as if something had sunk its teeth into it. A huge beast, a dog, maybe. It locked its jaws onto her limb and tore at the muscles with its teeth. She screamed, that was all she could do, scream. She could not describe the feeling of having her body ripped apart. She remembered her father's despair, his face as he leaned over her bed, and his words: What is it, tell me, what is it? As she writhed in pain, soaked in her own sweat, Don Guillermo, her kind, good father, waited for her to tell him. For an explanation. A meaningful verbalization of this horror, so that he could understand what was happening to his child. Otherwise, how could he help her? Because her frenzied cries were not enough. Pain needs to be articulated, communicated. It needs a kind of dialogue. It needs words. But only screams and shrieks of pain escaped from the child's lips.Anonymous
About This Quote
The pain of a child's first encounter with an injury, like the bite of a dog, might not be as easy to describe as other types of pain because it is not familiar. Like trying to describe something unknown. It is more like the pain of a first sexual experience for a teenager or young adult. The pain is new and strange and frightening, but you can't talk about it, because it is too personal.
Source: Fridas Bed
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