I am dead: Thou livest; …draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story Hamlet Act V scene ii
(Content: CSA, suicide).
She simply died, infected by the touch of him. It began, this slow death, with a hand upon hers, iron fingers curled around small bones that could snap like twigs in an instant. A wrist too small, always too small for this. She was born small, stayed small, perfectly small for this.
