she scratched, digging her fingernails deep into her scalp. slowly, she withdrew her hand and breathed. ahh. there was nothing like the scent of her own dandruff. soon, she craved for more and dug harder, deeper, faster. she wants it and she wants it now.
there was nothing that could stop her. not the "qi guai" girl who always lost at scissors, paper, stone sitting beside her. not the the other "qi guai" girls who always couldnt decide where to sit. and of course not the long black thread that always seemed to find a way to escape out of her sleevehole.
they were all just very "qi guai" weren't they? staring at her like that. but they were probably admiring her, and her nice betty boop bag when she brought it. ah well, she really shouldnt deprive others of the joys of looking at her and rob herself of her addiction.
so she continued. scratching and inhaling. mmmm. life's good.
can somebody save me please?
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