You look at the sweater in disgust, just imagine what the neighbors will say when they see you wrapped in toilet paper, and decide that your skin is too sensitive to lather in butter. You don't want to have to deal with another breakout; last time, it was so bad that you'd had to seal yourself into your house. That was why it had been so hard to get out, you realize.
You step outside, and as soon as you do, you can feel your flesh freezing in place. As you step towards the boy, your movements slow and you resist the temptation to scream in anguish. Almost halfway to the boy, you can hardly move.
What do you do?