Ch6p40
Chapter: Revelations
Location: Lusitania
Good luck washing that off with no soap, Ângela.
↓ Transcript
6 Panels.
Panel 1,2:
Ângela lifts her cape from the water again, and water splashes around. She tries to scrub it, but the blood doesn't come off.
Panel 3:
Ângela, almost defeated, whispering.
Ângela: I don't have soap...
Panel 4,5:
Ângela goes back to her attempts to wash her cape. The blood is not coming off and her hands appear wounded again.
Panel 6:
A large, darker panel. The colors shift intensely as Ângela steps away from the tank, slightly concerned. Her hands are bleeding profusely, and the tank is now full of blood, that drips towards the grass below.
Panel 1,2:
Ângela lifts her cape from the water again, and water splashes around. She tries to scrub it, but the blood doesn't come off.
Panel 3:
Ângela, almost defeated, whispering.
Ângela: I don't have soap...
Panel 4,5:
Ângela goes back to her attempts to wash her cape. The blood is not coming off and her hands appear wounded again.
Panel 6:
A large, darker panel. The colors shift intensely as Ângela steps away from the tank, slightly concerned. Her hands are bleeding profusely, and the tank is now full of blood, that drips towards the grass below.
Man Eurico is like a atomic bomb in the mind of a person.
Or is Angeas mind degrading? What they said about here in the church.
Totally relatable moment where you’re trying to wash your clothes and suddenly everything floods with blood, yeah
happens all the time
Out! Out, damn spot!
That’s not about to come out, is it?
Angela, please you gotta use some lemon juice and hydrogen peroxide! ….A lot of it.
I downloaded this image. I think it’s the best visual representation of fibromyalgia that I’ve ever seen.
You get so embarrassed about showing pain, when there’s nothing to see, that you learn to hide the pain. You learn to ignore it.
Occasionally, though, you’ll look down at your hand or your foot, and it’ll be dripping blood, and you have to follow the trail back, to try to figure out how you managed to actually hurt yourself for real.
I can’t fathom how long I’ve spent suppressing agonizing screams, while a voice inside my head tells me that since there aren’t any visible wounds, my pain can’t be real.
I guess my problem is just the opposite of hers.