She lay in a crumpled heap, a bruise swelling on her forehead.
My headache returns in a rush and I rub my forehead.
I scream out but of course no one can hear me and within seconds in this vision the deed is done, Lori drowned in her tub by Tanner merely holding her forehead and torso down by force.
Maddox smiles politely, his forehead slightly wrinkled in a frown and I wonder if I shot myself in the foot.
When we arrived, Maggie rested her hand against her forehead.
Exaggerated expressions produced unfortunate wrinkles on her forehead.
Instead, I lean forward, holding up my head with my hand and rubbing my forehead to try to think clearer.
I ran for the door and pressed my forehead to the window, trying desperately to see what was happening outside.
I rested my forehead on my knuckles, holding my communicator with the other hand.
Her hand is covered in blood, captured, no doubt, from the gaping wound in her forehead that I now witness.
