Warning! Domestic abuse, rape and child abuse (non sexual) in this chapter.

If you were a spectator to your life, you'd be telling the woman, the one that had watched her lover sleep soundly then slipped out of her living quarters, to stop. Go back. Make whatever decision she had to make when she was calm and of a sounder mind.

However, you were not a spectator, or an onlooker, or even a passerby. No, you were living every day in a mind and body that you had stopped connecting with. You were scared. Exhausted. Confused. And increasingly haunted by the frightened little girl you once were.

The sadistic laughter of your father echoed in a faraway chamber of your mind. It was no laughter of pleasure though, no, he had laughed to stop the boiling anger that overtook him when he was no longer in control. The features that so tied you to him were gone. He had lost another hold. Your Mother hated that you were marred by their unholy union, and now it was gone. If you could change the blood that ran through your veins, you would do that too. He was deserving of no legacy.

Footsteps halted at the Gargoyle that guarded Dumbledore's office. That guarded the parts of you that were taken. Hogwarts was meant to help you focus on yourself. It was a cruel irony that coming back had led you into the arms of someone who could help piece those last parts of you back together, but the very place shattered you in wholly fresh ways. Maybe the pieces were too small to fit back together now; you hoped to whatever deity you were wrong.

Either way, you no longer felt like you could allow your memories to float idly in glass vials because your trauma was still there, you could feel it but could not grasp it; your body simply trying its best to deal with the aftershocks. And it was failing. The veil was slipping. Albus himself had said that trauma seeps into the deeper places in our minds; that was his subtle admission that he could not rid you of it all.

Before uttering the password, it opened. Suspicious.

The confident feet that lead you to that point seemed to disappear as you took the last set of stairs and finally the last door into Albus's office. It was empty. Quiet. The cosiness that the room usually radiated, now ghostly as the Pensieve cabinet opened to you, also.

Albus knew I would come.

Resting your hands on the sides of the bowl, looking into the silver water that filled it, you felt nauseous. The dreams had felt so real. The pulling and the drowning. The liquid filling your lungs and the trapping of your body.

It can't hurt you, y/n.

Looking to your left, Fawkes eyed you warily.

"If something happens to me, Fawkes. Get Albus. Please." You plead to the wise-looking bird and whilst he could not acknowledge your request, you knew he understood.

Albus had confined your memories into their little glass prisons, your name burning in cursive on each bottle with a little number on the bottom. There was no ignoring the tremors that ran through your body and fizzled at your fingertips but you took the vial marked '1' and without a second thought poured the contents into the Pensieve.

Sorry, Grandma.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, you pushed your face into the silvery pool of water below you and were immediately taken into your bedroom at your Mother's flat. Flowery green wallpaper wrapped the walls, it was aging and there were little rips in it.

Scanning over to your bed, you saw yourself, the little girl, balled under her lavender coloured duvet as she tried her hardest to concentrate on the ABC picture book before her but the sounds of an argument and something being smashed distracted you both.

"Did you think you could hide it from me, you dirty little slut?" The familiar insipid voice of your Father rang out.

"Hide what? I haven't done anything! We haven't left the flat in over a week, I can't leave with these marks on me. Please, Amos, please remove them." The voice of your mother implored.

"Pathetic. Typical muggle bitch, begging for a little bit of power because you're all weak!. You're disgusting. You deserve nothing."

You. Esther, rose from the bed, abandoning the book, and walked out into the small corridor of your Mom's Council estate flat. The abuse that was being hurled at your Mother continued and your stomach turned in disgust. It was cold. Somehow it felt like you could feel the chill seeping into your bones as you looked on. You wanted to reach out, stop her but you obviously couldn't. She looked so small; so fragile in her sky blue nightie.

Your younger self walked into the living room where the argument was ensuing and the voices silenced as they turned to her.

Seeing your Mother again almost made you sob instantly. She looked so thin, her skin looked sickly and her hair fell limp at the sides of her face. Her bottom lip was healing, though still looked sore and bruises scattered her face and upper arms. On closer inspection you could see those were not caused by fists; they were magical markings. Which is why she was begging him to remove them. Bile rose up in you and you looked over to Amos, a disgusting smirk on his face and an evil glint in his mismatched eyes.

"Stop shouting at Mommy!" The little girl stomped, with all the force of a four-year-old, then bounded to her Mother and held on to her leg. Cowering from the demented look Amos was now throwing in her direction. The familiar type of fear, reserved only for your father, hit you.

"You're raising her to be an ungrateful little shit, just like yourself, aren't you Eleanor? Bet you're so proud. Esther come here!" He barked and the little girl jumped behind her Mother's leg.

Pathetic excuse of a man. Making tight fists you wanted nothing more than to run at him, but he wasn't there, this was already done. You were now the spectator; the onlooker.

"Esther!" He bellowed when you didn't move and she jumped, still guarded by Eleanor's legs.

I remember this, any minute now, mom is going to send me out of the room.

"Leave her alone, Amos," your Mother warned and covered her further from his view, "she's just a child."

Now, any second now. No...she's not. Albus had altered this.

"Yes, my little bastard child. Filthy half-blood. Look at her. Powerless, scrawny little thing. Can hardly believe she's mine. If it wasn't for her eyes and hair, I'd say she was one of your other little boyfriend's. Whore."

"Don't say those things about her! And there is no one else, Amos! You know that." Eleanor replied, trembling, trying to guard her anger. "You're privy to everything, don't forget!"

Before the little girl could react your mother was flung to the nearby 2 seater sofa. She howled in pain and grasped at her shoulder.

Amos pointed to the pained woman, "Look what your insolence did to your Mother, Esther. When you disobey me, there are consequences. You will learn that! Or so be it, I will kill you both."

The poor child in front of you was frozen in fear, as were you. It took you right back to the memories you had retained. Her tears stung your eyes and you were sure your heart rate matched hers, as her small chest expanded and contracted at an alarming rate.

"Now, Esther, I'm going to teach you a lesson in honesty. Your mother has been lying and I'm going to find out what has been happening. Both of you will learn to obey me." Amos hissed as he looked between his two victims.

His glare stopped on your Mother and she immediately buried her head into the softness of the sofa, screaming. He was searching her mind, you could see it. Only he was being cruel and twisting the knife in the already fresh wounds he was creating.

"Amos, please!" She cried out as her body writhed and she pushed her head deeper into the surface of the cushions below her.

The scared little girl seemed to be jolted from her fear as she ran to her mother and tried desperately to hug her. It was awkward and you could see that your Mother tried to stop her movements as best she could to hold on to Esther.

"It's okay, Mommy," Esther whispered, almost inaudibly to her Mother.

Then she stopped her writhing and Amos faltered. He seethed and pulled his wand out. "Legilimens."

One big difference between a born Legilimens and a trained one was you often didn't need your wand. He was weakened and that lit a flame under his already smoldering temper.

"Legilimens!" He all but screamed into the small living room, looking like he may foam at the mouth.

Looking to your younger self, hugging your Mother's leg, eyes gripped closed and terrified, it started to click. Was this the start? Whatever you were doing, it was working. It was blocking his advances.

In a fit of rage, Amos put a hole in the old TV your mother owned and broke every plate, bowl, and cup in the kitchen. Then left. Slamming the door behind him.

Banging from the flat below could be heard on the floor underneath you. Easier to ignore than to help.

"Mommy, he's gone," Esther whispered to your Mother and she cradled the frightened girl in her arms. She held back any further tears and did her best to soothe the child; whilst you were powerless, stuck to observe her struggle with the pain he had left her in. The wild look in her eyes worried you; you didn't remember that. Her eyes were usually soft, a lot of the time sadness washed over them, sometimes misery but never as bewildered and frantic as they looked in that moment.

"Everything's okay," she cooed, though you could hear in her voice she was ready to break.

Esther's eyes fluttered shut, "I'm tired."

The shadows of the memory blocked your vision; you pulled out of it, lungs heaving and chest aching. You wept for your mother and yourself over the bowl; your tears mixing with the silver pond below. It had to all come out before you could even begin reaching for the next vial.

Once you dove in, a similar situation was presented to you; his violence, her pain, then his faltering. Again and again. Only he wasn't as smart as your Mother, she had realised far sooner than he had, that whenever his torture wavered, you were there. You wondered what your Mother felt in those moments, what he was doing to her mind, and how she coped for so long. She was a muggle after all, with no magical abilities, it would have been far more brutal on her mind.

Bottle number 7 was next. Pouring it in, you weren't sure how much more you could watch. Every vial hurt more and your mind felt at breaking point. It was hazy and confusing. The obliviated memories were being pieced together, you could feel it but that's not how the Pensieve worked.

"Are you ready to play our game again?" You watched your Mother asked as she sat looking at Esther, crossed-legged on the floor. Eleanor was in loose jeans and an even looser sweatshirt, amazingly, she looked thinner than you'd seen her yet; it seemed impossible. The sweatshirt didn't hide the large handprint-like bruise at the back of her delicate neck.

This is new.

Esther nodded her head excitedly.

"Okay, you stay here, Mommy's going to hide. Ready?" She asked with a smile on her face.

You watched the little girl close her eyes. "Ready!"

Eleanor walked out of the room and Esther started counting.

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Ready or not, here I come." You waited for her to move, but she sat completely still, which for a child so young you thought was amazing in itself.

"Found you!" Esther exclaimed excitedly and opened her eyes, "you're under your bed!"

Oh, you clever little witch. You sat in front of her, where your Mother had sat just a minute before, and watched her happy little face; green and blue eyes glowing with success.

"And what am I thinking?" Eleanor's voice rang through the short distance from her bedroom to the living room.

Esther concentrated again briefly, "Ermm, eating chocolate ice cream in the park yesterday!"

"Okay, last thing, Sweetheart. Take it away…"

She fluttered her eyes shut once more.

Take it away?

"And back, Esther."

You watched whatever silent game they were playing between themselves now. Esther clapped triumphantly to herself and Eleanor came in a few moments later, a look of pride on her face. "Excellent, Esther. You got it all right. Want to switch now?"

"Yeah!" She leapt up and insisted Eleanor sit where she had. Your mother now sat in front of you, mirroring your seated position; closing her eyes, she put her fingers in her ears and began counting. Esther only hid behind the sofa, peering over at her mother as she counted.

"One..."

"I'm sorry, Mom." You said as you rocked slightly.

"Three..."

"I'm sorry he hurt you. I'm sorry I've never come to find you."

"Five..."

"Godric, I hope you understand why I haven't." Your voice broke.

"Seven..

"I hope you know that I think you are so brave and strong." Tears began to stream.

"Nine..."

"And I don't blame you for leaving."

"Ten..."

"I love you, still."

Her lids opened and she and peered straight at you, her soft brown eyes almost pierced your heart. You reached out, vibrations of sorrow running through your muscles, but she was thin air on your wanton fingertips. She was a beautiful woman; marked only by Amos' ugly doings.

Nothing seemed to happen. "Remember, Esther, think really hard about Mommy."

There was a brief pause as your Mother evened her breathing, closed her eyes, and loosened her body.

"Well done, Esther!" She beamed "You're behind the sofa...stop sticking your tongue out at me, you cheeky thing," Eleanor laughed and it was glorious to hear again. She peered over her shoulder, "Is mommy, right?"

"Yes!" Esther giggled.

Oh, you clever muggle, Mother! Is this what I was doing with Severus?

Mother and daughter continued with the game for a while longer, and you watched with glee each time Esther and Eleanor were correct. Moving further from each other on each occasion.

It was the first memory you had come out of not feeling nauseous and pained. Just a few more, you thought, you can do it, as you picked up vial number 8.

You melted into your childhood bedroom again, Esther was sat up against the bed, knees to her chest, breathing heavy, her eyes closed.

Amos was drunk, you could hear it in his slurs. He was in the room next to you, your Mother's bedroom. The slam against the thin wall made you jump simultaneously with Esther. She ran out into the hall and tried the door but it was locked, when she couldn't open it she ran back to her room and tried to cover her ears.

"Amos stop, you're drunk!" Eleanor shouted.

Panic rose in your chest. Please, no.

"A daughter with no powers is no good to me." He barked back, you couldn't quite hear what was happening then, Esther's hands over her ears were muffling the sound. "This time, you're going to give me a son."

You fucking bastard!

"No. I will not. I am not doing this. Stop, Amos, Stop! No!" Eleanor screamed and tears pricked your eyes to how powerless you were, how terrified she sounded, how disgusting he was.

"Shut up!" He screamed and then there was more banging and fumbling. You paced, not wanting to hear this. Mom!

"Get off me! Stop. It hurts. Please, Amos." Eleanor screamed painfully, terror in her voice; it hit you, this is probably how you also came to be conceived.

Please stop, please stop, please stop.

"Mommy," Esther whispered, eyes closed and tears streaming down her face. She scrunched her eyes and nose.

"Shut up!" Amos's voice commanded again and this time she did. He must have used a silencing charm.

An eerie stillness fell over the memory, agonising beats of time as the unknown happened next door. The tears streamed down your face, as they did Esther's, and you paced the room.

"Come on, Esther, help her." You said as you knelt down in front of your child self. "Come on, little girl, you can do it." You sobbed and dropped your head into your hands, kneading your scalp with your fingertips, contemplating the other room.

As if the little girl heard your encouragement, there was a sudden pathetic wailing of pain from the bedroom. You lifted your head and jumped to your feet, watching Esther, but carefully listening.

The door slammed open, it sounded like Amos stumbled out of the bedroom, something fell and smashed. "It's that little half-blood, isn't it? Finally found your powers, have you?"

Looking down at Esther, droplets of blood trickled from her left nostril as her eyes frantically moved under their lids. He wailed again, this time slamming himself against Esther's bedroom door, you instinctively jumped back and grabbed for your wand, but no wand was there.

The sound jolted the frightened little girl on the floor and she jumped up, the blood dripping onto her Scooby-Doo T-shirt. Then the door was practically torn from its hinges and he barrelled in, fixing his trousers. If it were possible, you'd have thrown up then and there at the sight of him.

"You little bitch!" He panted and stumbled towards her, you put yourself in front of his rage, his eyes darkening with every step. He licked his disgusting yellow teeth and passed right through you. "Who thought you'd have it in you, eh?"

Pulling his wand, he lifted Esther up roughly; she yelped and kicked her feet through the air. "What have you two been hiding, Esther? That's very bad, hiding things from Daddy."

Your stomach turned.

"Get off of her, Amos," your Mother yelled and jumped on his back, biting at his neck and shoulders frantically and pulling at his dark hair. Her blouse was torn and her skin was red and scratched but she had one focus and that was keeping him away from Esther. From you.

Esther dropped to the floor with a thud and she started to cry, her eyes a panic at watching her Mother fighting her father.

You winced and slammed your eyes shut as you watched Eleanor's frail body flung from his and out into the hallway. There was no sound after the slam into the wall and you so wished you could go check on her but you were stuck in Esther's bedroom. Amos walked to the door, spat then turned around, a demonic look in his eyes as he fixated on the trembling girl.

There was a raucous outside that grabbed your attention.

"Stupefy!" Your Grandmother's voice boomed steadily and the memory blurred.

Severus woke; your body not next to his, which over the last few weeks he had become accustomed to. As much as he loathed it, he didn't often get up to find you; knowing you'd be at your desk working, needing your space, but something didn't sit right this time. Rolling onto his back, he sighed loudly, it was only a few weeks ago that he told you he'd do better and he was failing already, he couldn't even be sure why he stormed out as he had.

Throwing the duvet off of his irritable body, he pushed himself out of the bed; the dungeon air, slightly warmer as Spring was in full bloom, was still cold enough that it made his bare chest goose-pimple. He grabbed his robe from the back of your bathroom door and went in search of you.

The light was left on the living room but you were not in there, he doubled back, pushing his hair from his face, and checked the bathroom but again, you were not in there. His heart rate increased and his fingers tapped at his thigh nervously.

"Y/N?" He questioned into your empty quarters just as a precaution. Of course, he was not answered.

Checking the time, he saw it was now nearing 3 in the morning.

Where the bloody hell has she gone?

Frantically, you scrambled for the next vial, you pulled for the last one, skipping a number of vials; you couldn't watch any more abuse, you had to see what finally transpired though. Pouring it in, you could taste copper in the back of your throat, you shuddered at the picture of Esther's nose running. You plunged in for a final time.

Esther played in the garden of Rose Cottage, she was inspecting something in the dirt with a magnifying glass. She was dirty but looked happy.

"Esther," you heard your Mothers' voice whisper, "Esther come here."

The young girl looked immediately to the house and then around the garden quickly. She brushed off her hands and abandoned the magnifying glass in the dirt. Her knees were filthy and her legs were now much longer and gangly. She must have been around 10.

"Mom?" She whispered into bushes that lay on the other side of the low fencing.

"Honey, I need you to come here because I can't get over the fence. Grandma has been protecting you well, hasn't she? Just like I asked her to."

Esther hesitated and looked back towards the house.

"Esther, Mommy's missed you so much."

The girl's face softened, she scaled the low fence, and then scrambled through the bush. As soon as she straightened up, she stiffened.

Severus dressed in mere seconds and then bounded out of your quarters. He checked his own first, maybe you had just wanted to sleep apart, he concluded but it seemed not. He then went to the Potions classroom; when that was also fruitless, he travelled as fast as his feet would take him to the infirmary.

A myriad of sick children lay in their beds, fast asleep; Madam Pomfrey's assistant, whose name escaped him, enquired as to what he was doing there. When he asked if you were there or had been there, the answer was no. Leaving the ward, straight-faced, he didn't show his panic until he was safely out of view.

Severus stopped, allowed himself a brief moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts before he would start knocking on every door he could. He didn't care who he disturbed or who asked questions about why he was looking for you at nearing 4am, in his pyjamas; he needed to get the feeling of trepidation out of his chest; he needed to find you.

As he made his way to Minerva's quarters, knowing she would rip him a new one, he stopped. His head filling with images of numbered vials and then the Pensieve.

He ran.

The memory blurred quickly as you saw the flashes of your Father's menacing eyes, it didn't clear until you were in your Mother's flat. It was empty, save for a few scattered bits.

"Take me back to, Grandma." The quivering voice of Esther said as she lifted from the floor, rubbing her head.

"You can go wherever you want once you tell me where your Mother is, Esther." Her father had softened his usual harsh voice but she still flinched at the sound of it and shuffled away until her back hit the wall.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Esther. I just need your help to find your Mother. I realise I was horrible to her...to you...I want to make it better. I want us to be a family. Wouldn't you like that, Esther, a proper family? A mom and a dad together? I know you want that. I've seen it. You want what your little muggle friends have, don't you? Come on, sweetheart, help daddy?"

You little conniving bastard. Curse you. Don't fall for it, Esther.

"You're a bad man. I don't want you as my dad! My friends have nice dads. They don't make their moms bleed and cry." She argued.

That's it, Esther.

"Esther. We can do this the easy way and you can tell me where she is or we do it the hard way...and I'll make you. You don't want that but either is fine with me." He sneered.

"See! You're not a good man!" Esther screamed and tried to stand but Amos pushed his hand out and pinned her to the spot where she was sitting.

"Just like your Mother." The invisible slap whipped Esther's head to the side and tears pooled in her eyes.

You clenched your jaw and forced yourself to keep watching.

After a few minutes of screaming from Esther and frustrated ramblings from Amos, he pulled his wand from his pocket. He couldn't get through.

"Legilimens." He barked, wand pointed straight at Esther's face. Her pain continued, try after try after try.

It was gut-wrenching to watch and pressure began to build behind your eyes. A piercing shot continuously rang through the right side of your head.

"Where is she, Esther?!" He screamed after further failed attempts. "Nothing, I can see nothing," he panicked as he bit his bottom lip.

Esther lay sobbing on the floor, almost motionless and shimmering with sweat. Her breathing was rapid and her eyes were glazed over, despite the tears that fell from them. Amos frantically paced around the room, pulling at his hair, his body jutting in uncontrollably.

Come on, someone come for her. Come on, please. You silently pleaded.

You watched him, plotting what he was going to do next, whilst rambling nonsense into the air. He rolled up his shirt sleeves and you had to double-take. The Dark Mark. He wasn't a Deatheater, you were assured he wasn't a Deatheater but there it was. Plain as day.

"Have it your way, Esther," he muttered, "let's break the body, the mind will soon follow."

He lifted his wand, eyes gleaming dementedly, "Crucio!"

Your ears seemed to ring. The poor girl's body writhed and she clawed at the floor, so much pain ran through her body that she didn't even scream. She just convulsed and wretched. The contents of her stomach spilling from her mouth as the waves of pain overtook her young form.

"You fucking bastard, you monster, stop! Stop! Stop!" You screamed.

Esther passed out and the memory faded and then lifted again.

She was alone in the room once more, you could see the tremors of pain that now ran through her body, the Cruciatus Curse should have killed her you thought. Should have killed you. When she struggled to her feet, your shock grew.

She tested the door carefully but it was locked. He must have heard though and he suddenly came crashing into the room again. Esther immediately ran back to the end of the room.

"Feeling brave are you, you deceptive little shit? Surprised you can even stand up. See, I was right, how many times have I told you that you'd make a wonderful Slytherin...well you would have...if you'd have made it to school. Stupid little half-blood. A disgrace to our family's name. You and my bitch of a Mother. I'll get her next. She's ill anyway so I'll put her out of her misery. Then I'll find your whore Mother, and I'll have lots and lots of fun with her." He licked his chapped lips, then spat on the floor, "You first though."

"You leave Grandma and Mom alone. You'll never find her. Mommy always said you were the weak one! Only weak people hurt others!" She shouted, her voice hoarse, afraid but filled with anger too.

"I might do this by hand actually," he said tucking his wand into his pocket, "far more satisfying."

He stepped towards her but his legs buckled and he fell to his knees, gripping his head. The veins in his neck pulsed violently and his skin reddened.

"You have hurt Mommy too many times." Esther whispered as she bore her eyes into his, "See, see how you hurt Mommy. See how you hurt me." Esther quivered as she doubled the intensity of the stare, her skinny body shook as she gritted her teeth.

"Esther, stop! Bi..iitch" Amos screamed as he pushed his head into the floor. But she didn't stop and fresh blood began to run from both her nostrils this time.

"Stop Esther!" You screamed, kneeling down beside, "Stop now, Esther, you're hurting yourself."

She still didn't stop. You watched as she pushed and pushed until blood dripped from Amos' ears and he collapsed into a heap on the floor.

Esther sat in the corner of the room, covered in her own blood, her body still convulsing with the aftershocks of the Cruciatus Curse as she stared at her Father's body. Her Grandmother found her, it seemed like hours but it wasn't.

Severus stormed through the Gargoyle and quickly down the stairs, through the door. At the sight of you, his breath caught in his chest as he witnessed you face down in the Pensieve. She's done it. Holding himself back from pulling you from it, he watched in fear as your body moved uncomfortably then calmed. After a few minutes, the Pensieve released you.

You gasped, your eyes closed and wretched as you rested her hands on her knees. Severus wanted to reach out but he was frozen, terrified he would scare you. Nothing came up, though it might have been more comfortable if it had; the bile burned your throat.

Lifting your head, you jumped on seeing a dark figure watching you, and before Severus knew what was happening you had drawn your wand. "Stupefy!"

Severus was sent flying back into the wall, he whinged at the pain in his back and the breathlessness the strike had caused.

"Y/n, it's just me," he said panicked, "it's Severus!"

He was thoroughly winded, whilst his lower back burned. He gritted his teeth as he pushed up on his arms. Snapping out of your fear-fuelled attack, you realised what you had done. You've hurt him again. You have no control.

Stuck to the spot, you apologised pathetically, ashamed and terrified. Your voice a shivering mess.

"I'm sorry," you repeated as Severus pulled himself up and rested against the wall you had thrown him against. He held his chest and breathed heavily, his one leg stretching out.

Severus' eyes were closed and you wanted to bolt before he opened them; not wanting him to look at you. But you couldn't leave him like that. Keeping your distance, you rubbed your temple your with thumb and middle finger, trying to relieve the pressure. It was information overload and your mind was struggling to put it all together.

"Y/n," he spoke and held out his hand, his eyes finally open, "come here. It's okay. You're okay."

Look at what you've done to him!

"I can't, Severus," you replied, looking down at your feet. Focussing on the pattern of the rug, you tried to calm your frantic mind, but it was no good. The screams of your Mother echoed and the convulsions of Esther's...your body, replayed in your mind. The pain began to radiate through your legs and into your stomach and sweat broke out on your brow.

So focussed on those feelings of pain you hadn't heard Severus move and approach you. Softly taking both your upper arms in his hands, he froze and a tear sprang forth and quickly rolled down his pale cheek.

He heard the screams, he saw the little girl.

"Stop!" You yelped and pushed him away fiercely, "Don't touch me! Please, don't touch me!"