under my skin

Her eyes were clouded, distant. Almost as if she really were there again, five, six years old, her spine curving, curling into herself, trying to become nothing. The girl who once hurt her now haunted her, always speaking to her from some dark corner in her mind. If she could forget, if she could let go, even she herself knew she might see the sunlight in her smile, the springtime that lived within her soul.

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