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Don't touch me

Don't touch me

Saint Pete

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"Don't Touch Me" is a chilling dive into the darkest corners of the human psyche, where the boundary between reality and paranoia blurs with each terrifying moment. The story centers around Sarah, a woman grappling with the remnants of a trauma that has left her unable to bear physical contact. But as she tries to rebuild her life in a new town, she begins to sense something sinister lurking just beyond her reach. Every touch, every brush of air, feels like a warning-one that grows more ominous with each passing day. The novel unravels the layers of Sarah's fear, making you question what's real and what's a product of her unraveling mind. Is there something truly haunting her, or is the terror all in her head? "Don't Touch Me "will keep you on edge, weaving a narrative so tense that even the slightest sound will make your skin crawl. It's a story of survival, of confronting the demons that live within us, and those that might be waiting in the shadows.

Chapter 1 Arrival

Sarah stared out the car window as she drove through the winding roads leading to her new home. The trees, thick and ancient, seemed to close in around her, their dark branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The town of Grey Wood had a reputation-one she'd heard whispers of but chose to ignore. She needed a place to escape, and this secluded town, with its quiet streets and unassuming buildings, seemed like the perfect place to start over.

The GPS chimed, announcing her arrival at the house she'd rented online. It was an old Victorian, tucked away at the edge of the woods, far enough from town to offer solitude but close enough to make a quick run to the store if needed. Sarah pulled into the gravel driveway, the tires crunching loudly in the silence. For a moment, she just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, letting the stillness wash over her.

The house loomed before her, its tall, narrow frame casting long shadows in the late afternoon light. The paint was peeling, and the windows were clouded with age, but it had a certain charm-or so she had convinced herself when she saw the photos online. Stepping out of the car, Sarah took a deep breath. The air was cooler here, fresher than in the city, with a faint scent of pine and earth. She glanced around, half expecting someone to appear and greet her, but there was no one in sight. The town had seemed deserted as she passed through, and now, standing alone in the driveway, the isolation was palpable.

"Home sweet home," she muttered to herself, grabbing her suitcase from the backseat. The gravel crunched beneath her boots as she approached the front door, which creaked open with a touch. The realtor had left the key under the mat, a gesture of trust that felt almost old-fashioned in its simplicity. Inside, the house was just as she remembered from the pictures-wooden floors that creaked underfoot, high ceilings with ornate crown molding, and large windows that would have let in plenty of light if they weren't so grimy.

The furniture was sparse, just enough to be functional, and covered in a thin layer of dust. It was clear the house had been empty for a while. Sarah walked through the rooms, her footsteps echoing in the stillness. The living room opened into a small dining area, which led to a kitchen that looked like it hadn't been updated in decades. Still, it had everything she needed-a stove, a fridge, and plenty of cabinet space.

Upstairs, she found three bedrooms, each with its own peculiar charm. The largest, with a bay window overlooking the woods, would be hers. She set her suitcase down on the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking beneath her weight. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, to breathe in the quiet.

But the quiet didn't last. As she sat there, an unsettling feeling began to creep in, like a cold draft sneaking through a crack in the wall. It was subtle at first, just a prickle at the back of her neck, but it grew stronger, more insistent, until she couldn't ignore it.

Sarah stood up and walked over to the window, pushing aside the heavy curtain. The woods outside seemed even darker now, the trees swaying slightly in the breeze. She couldn't shake the feeling that something-or someone-was watching her. She shook her head, trying to dismiss the thought as nerves. After all, it was her first day in a new place. It was only natural to feel a little uneasy.

But as she stood there, staring out into the gathering dusk, she couldn't help but wonder if Grey Wood was really the escape she had hoped for-or if it was just the beginning of a new nightmare.

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