Touch starved: Craving and hating you

My skin was starved of human contact for so long. A part of me wished I never got to feel what I was now missing. Maybe I wouldn't miss hugs if no one ever wrapped their arms around me. Maybe I wouldn't miss the innocent stroke of someone's fingers as they innocently came into contact with my exposed skin. Why was I touch starved?

I didn't have venom-soaked skin that would end the existence of anyone who dared to touch me, I had something much worse, but to understand that you must understand that all the women in my life were cursed. Their partners were determined the moment they were born, and they had no way of changing their destiny. All they could do was wait for the moment that they would get taken. All they could do was wait to be claimed by someone else knowing that they had no ownership over their own lives. The best they could hope for was that the person destined to take them would be kind enough to give them some of their ownership back. Sometimes fate would be cruel, and a woman would disappear as the beast that claimed her would want only him to see her. Other times the women got the chance to live a pretty normal life.

My mother was an in-betweener. She had always been defiant enough not to give up on everything. She would ensure that any pregnancy would get terminated as soon as she learned she was having a girl. She wasn't willing to bring a child into the world that was destined to fulfil a life that lacked personal autonomy. Eventually, her beast, my father, made her a deal. He'd make sure that my destined beast would never be able to claim me. My mother blindly agreed to that deal, not knowing that she set me up for a worse destiny.

My beast found me and found a way to make sure that no one would ever be able to get too close. He'd end every single being that ever got to touch me before he could, and he could never touch me without being in excruciating pain. He was forever too close but not close enough and he wasn't the only one hurting.