the momentary relief from the itch inexpressible.
Ever since she was a child it had been creams and treatments and mittens and admonishments.
“Whatever you do, do not scratch!”
The itching grew as the scaling and flaking did.
The lotions no longer did a thing.
Everyone has limits.
They must understand that!
So she scratched.
And scratched.
She scratched herself blissful,
nails digging through layers of dead dry skin.
The pain of the scratching was almost more than the pleasure of the relief,
but she could not stop.
There was something new beneath the torture.
Her shed peeling off revealed sleek scales beneath.
With some more work she fought herself completely free of her shredding human skin,
suddenly more herself than ever before.
Stretching, wings unfurling, she roared her power.
She finally understood why they told her not to scratch.
The itching grew as the scaling and flaking did.
The lotions no longer did a thing.
Everyone has limits.
They must understand that!
So she scratched.
And scratched.
She scratched herself blissful,
nails digging through layers of dead dry skin.
The pain of the scratching was almost more than the pleasure of the relief,
but she could not stop.
There was something new beneath the torture.
Her shed peeling off revealed sleek scales beneath.
With some more work she fought herself completely free of her shredding human skin,
suddenly more herself than ever before.
Stretching, wings unfurling, she roared her power.
She finally understood why they told her not to scratch.
