reminds me of a filmlet I've seen 10 years ago at a filmfestival. A movie without words. a couple driving in a car, holding hands, having a short argument, then holding hands again, the crash, she awakes, still her hand in his and not being able to remove it since rigor mortis had set in before she awoke. Strangest of situations. She finally could free herself. Ask not how.
In your story she can not forget how it feels to finally having found the one hand that is entitled to touch one - to the core - and to loos it so traumatically. poor girl. there are ways to get over such traumatic experiences. Hope she will give it a try. every skin needs to be touched. Every soul needs to be touched. She will die like a flower that someone forgot to water. She can not do that to herself. Her soul is more than this memory. She has a duty, a responsibility towards herself. Not fulfilling this means dying, or being a living dead or something of the sort.
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