The girl cried out painfully as the witch touched the skin right above her heart. The witch's touch sent needles through her, freezing every inch of her body with cold that could not be described. She could not move; and now, she could not scream. All she could do was sit quiet until the witch was done with her. Blood ran down the girl's chest as the witch carved a symbol there with her sharp nail. "Don't worry, child," whispered the witch with a surprisingly beautiful voice, even though her body was wrinkled and ruined by the magic she had been using all her life. "It will be over soon."
The witch then laid her palm on the girl's chest and whispered words that sent chills through the girl's already cold body. Words that the girl would try to remember years later, but would not be able to; words that cursed her from every loving anyone or anything again.
"Rwy'n curse chi gyda gwagle byword o gariad. Efallai Peidiwch byth byddwch yn cyffwrdd arall yn byw yn unwaith eto," the sorceress said in a voice that made the girl shiver in fear; a voice of hatred. "And now, you can touch no one." The symbol shone with light as the witch rose from hunching over the girl. The girl was released from her paralysis and she ran. Then the hag laughed and vanished into the shadows.
The girl ran into a convenient store, holding her ripped dress over her chest. She asked the clerk to call the police. He dialed the police's number and told them the address; he then hung up. Quickly he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and handed it to her. His hand brushed hers slightly. A shock of electricity went through her body; then the clerk fell to the ground. She screamed at the knowledge of what she knew. He was dead because she had touched him; he was dead, meaning what she had just went through was real. Very, very real.