Sometimes, you don’t know someone like you thought you did. Take Bethany for example. I thought her love of holding hands was just a small comforting mechanism. A neurotic childhood affliction caused by a distant father. It just goes to show how I really didn’t know shit.

Now, imagine my surprise when I found how deep that affliction actually went, when I opened a forgotten drawer and found a collection of severed hands; all beautifully dried and preserved.

You might expect I ran, cowered even. But you would be wrong. It’s not every day you see the darker side of the one you love. I knew that she needed me. Even just so I could hold her hand.