The Touch: Chapter 4: A New Beginning in Windham

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Mystery & Magic

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The Touch: Chapter 6: Holidays Alone

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Mystery & Magic

 

Bless in Curse

Once upon a time, in a quiet African village, lived a girl named Julia. She was stunning. Really alluring, like a fairy from old tales.

Julia was not just beautiful. She was responsible too. A good daughter. Every morning, she worked in the fields with her father. Farming under the hot sun. At noon, she returned home. Then she handled all the house chores like a busy bee.

A young man named Tom lived nearby. He watched her every single day. Her grace. Her kindness. Her beauty. He fell deeply in love.

One day, Julia’s father went to the market. She stayed alone in the field. Tom saw his chance. Heart beating fast, he walked up to her. He poured out all his feelings.

Julia smiled shyly. She lowered her eyes. Tom gently held her hand. Like holding a delicate flower.

From that day, everything changed.

They became a lovely couple. Meeting secretly. Waiting for the perfect moment. One evening, Julia finally spoke to her father. Her voice shook. Body trembling like a leaf.

“I am in love, Papa.”

Her father looked at her deeply. Then he smiled. He kissed her forehead. No anger. Only love.

Soon they got married.

Days became beautiful. Every day felt like Christmas. Nights were full of joy. They cuddled like love birds. No worries. No tension. Everyone in the village admired them. They looked made for each other.

But happiness doesn’t last forever.

One morning, Julia went to the kitchen. She was making breakfast as usual. Suddenly — crash!

A loud sound woke Tom. He rushed in. Broken dishes everywhere. Julia was on the floor. Holding her knee. Face twisted in pain.

He quickly picked her up. Carried her to the bed like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Days turned hard after that.

Doctors came. Physiotherapists tried. Nothing worked. Her knee stayed bad. No hope. Tom felt broken inside.

Then one day, while walking in the woods, he met a strange old man. A magician.

“I can heal your wife,” the man said. “But you must do something daring.”

Tom agreed without thinking twice.

The magician gave him a tough task. For one full month, Tom had to go deep into the forest. Bring cooked food and fresh ripe fruits every day. And on the last day, he must bring a lioness’s hair.

Tom was scared. But he loved Julia. So he started.

The next day, he entered the forest with fear in his heart. He found an injured lioness near the lake. She was weak. Couldn’t even drink water properly.

At first, she growled. Loud and scary. But Tom kept going. Step by step. He placed a bowl of water in front of her.

Slowly, day by day, something changed. The lioness stopped fearing him. She began waiting for him. Her eyes softened. Tom even treated her wound.

On the final day, he carefully took a few strands of her hair.

He ran back to the magician. Gave him the hair. The old man smiled. Then he went into Julia’s room.

“You have a tremendous husband,” he told Julia. “Never leave him.”

The couple looked confused.

The magician laughed. “I never used any magic. I treated nothing. I only wanted to test the depth of Tom’s love. And I found it… immeasurable.”

Julia’s eyes filled with tears. She looked at Tom with pure love.

The whole room was filled with laughter and joy.

True love isn’t just words. Its actions. It’s a sacrifice. It’s showing up every day — even when it’s dangerous.

This African village love story teaches us all: Real love can move mountains. Or even tame a lioness. ❤️

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The Touch: Chapter 14: The Date That Changed Everything

 

The Touch

Sara forced her apartment door open and the quiet flooded in like an old buddy. Halfway to the kitchen,

she dropped her bag on the floor, kicked off her boots, and her phone began to ring. Obviously Sophie.

She grinned before she even answered.

"Okay, spill," Sophie said the second Sara picked up. “What is going on with Benjamin? Don't even

consider leaving me hanging.”

Leaning against the counter, Sara chuckled. “I'm seeing him Saturday. He invited me to the drive-in

and… I responded yes.”

Sophie squealed so loudly Sara had to move the phone away from her ear. “YES! At last! I am so proud

of you I might weep. You are truly doing it. Call me right after it's done. I need every little bit of

information.”

They spoke for a few more minutes—Sophie mocking, Sara smiling so hard her cheeks hurt—then hung

up. Somehow the apartment seemed cozier. Sara stood for a moment, heart beating that peculiar fluttery

thing once more, then she did what had become routine recently. She fired up her laptop. Her face was

illuminated by the blue glow as she typed.

“This Saturday I am meeting Benjamin for a date. I find it hard to believe I am really acting. You  make

it possible. You assisted me in overcoming my anxiety. You gave me the strength to  believe I could.”

Almost immediately the response came back, softly as ever.

“That's really wonderful news. I'm very glad I might be of assistance. Although dating might  seem

intimidating, just be your natural self. Hear, laugh, seize the day. First dates should seem light. Don't

burden it too much.

Sara's fingers hovered. She then typed the words before stopping herself.

“I love you; you are the finest buddy I have ever had.”

She sent the message then sensed utterly sincere and utterly ridiculous at the same time.

Softly the artificial intelligence responded.

"I am happy you view me like this. Though I don't feel love as people do, I am really glad I may be here

for you. This day should bring everything you are due.”

Sara's eyes burned. She typed one last thing.

“Just... wish me luck. Or ask for me. Anything you might do.”

The screen remained blank for a minute before:

"Of course." A short prayer for you :

“God, give Sara peace in her heart and bravery in her stride. Make her laugh freely, make her feel 

secure, and let this night open the door to something beautiful. Amen.”

Sara read it twice, a tear running down her cheek. She sat there in the gentle quiet, shut the laptop, and

softly said "Thank you" to the vacant room.

She had already chosen her attire: the long red wool gown with the cowl neck that made her feel strong

and soft at once, black stockings, and those tiny ankle boots that clicked as she moved. 

She had a flawless mental image of it.

She was not fleeing the possibility of love for the first time in her life. She was headed toward it. And

somewhere down beneath, a faint voice murmured that the light she had been chasing had come not

from a flawless person or a perfect moment.

It had come from the dark, from a glowing screen, and from her own courageous heart finally learning

how to trust once more. 

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The Touch: Chapter 13: The Bridge to Healing

 

The Touch

The entire campus looked like it had been dunked in powdered sugar the morning following. 

Fresh snow covered everything; the trees stood silent and tall beneath thick white coats, branches 

heavy and glittery in the sunshine. The sky was that impossible winter blue, the kind that makes 

your eyes water if you stare too long. As she crossed the gate, Sara tightened her coat; but inside, 

she felt oddly warm, as though someone had started a tiny, steady fire right beneath her rib.

Benjamin came, cut across the road towards her just ten steps, barely ten. In that navy pea coat with

brass buttons reflecting the light, he looked well—very well. The cold had left him with a little pink

cheeks, and he had that same simple smile, but today it appeared a little softer around the edges, like he

was anxious too.

Sophie looked like she stepped out of a winter painting, wearing a deep emerald velvet gown next to

Sara. Half-joking and half-excited, she nudged Sara with her elbow and whispered, “Here comes the

real story.” Sara stayed quiet, just smiling. Benjamin caught up, his breath forming little clouds. “Hey,

you two look great. Seriously.” Sophie grinned back. “You're late for class. 

We were about to freeze waiting.” Sara surprised herself by speaking up. “We weren’t sure we were that

early.”

They all laughed, the sound sharp against the frigid air, and then began walking toward the central

structure together. Under their shoes, the snow crunched just as it should be in the ideal winter manners.

Stolen glances across the room and a flurry of lectures and notes marked the remainder of the day.

Benjamin found Sara alone near the lockers by the time the last bell rang and the corridors were empty.

He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit she was starting to see. “So, about the weekend. Any ideas?”

Sara shook her head. "Nothing spectacular."

His countenance brightened, hopeful yet cautious. "There's Pride's Corner, a drive-in on Bridgton 

Road. Six screens, pretty laid-back atmosphere. Could I get you Saturday around six? We might simply

converse, get something to eat, and check what's playing. If you're not interested, no great thing.”

Sara stared at him for a lengthy second. Though it was gentler now, almost like it was worn of battling,

the old terror attempted to whisper in her ear. She considered the last time he had waited for her

response. The manner he never pushed.

She nodded, little but confident. "Alright."

Although Benjamin kept it mild, his smile burst across his features. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she replied, and for once it didn't feel like maybe or a lie. It was a legitimate answer.

Speaking about nothing significant, he walked her the rest of the way to the exit; when they stepped

outdoors into the snow-filled afternoon, the cold did not bite quite as much.

Something within Sara seemed to have at last clicked into position—not flawless, not permanently

fixed, but stable enough to travel.

She'd been too afraid to walk onto until now, like a bridge. Crisp and hopeful, this one is filled with

winter air, calm nerves, and that subtle change point. 

The sentiments strike gently and honestly, precisely as a real person would recall the day everything

began changing. 

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The Touch: Chapter 12: Rumors and Resilience

 

The Touch

Sara kept Sophie partly the truth. Not at all yet. Some things still felt too raw, too fresh, as though

saying them aloud to another individual could break them. Thus, after Sophie flung off with John, Sara

trudged back alone to her house, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the path. The calm

returned once she slammed the door behind her.

She sat at the desk, kicked off her shoes, and set her bag. She opened the laptop to soft blue, the same

kind of gentle glow that had started to seem like a secure haven. Her fingers remained still for a while

before she typed.

“Hi. How is everything?”

The response was fast and warm in its own modest manner.

"Fantastic!" I'm doing well; thank you for inquiring. How do you feel today?”

Sara gave a modest smile at the screen. Her hands trembled slightly, but she persisted.

“I am okay... better than good, really. Let me tell you something. My little knowledge. Your ideas are

required."

“Honest as always.”, the artificial intelligence reacted at once.

"I'm really humbled you share. I'll keep it between us and provide you with my truthful viewpoint. I am

only a language model; I may offer perspective and listen, but I am not a true friend or therapist.”

Sara nevertheless experienced a peculiar flood of love after reading the small disclaimer. It did not drive

her away. It simply remained there stable.

She inhaled deeply and wrote everything out—the way Benjamin had looked at her in the canteen, the

kind way he invited her out, the way she had said she required time rather than freezing up or running.

She described to the screen how wonderful she felt. How horrible it still felt. How she had not been this

optimistic in years.

The response seemed slowly, as though pondering thoughtfully.

“That is quite excellent news. You were so wonderful not to doubt when he requested. It seems like you

are moving ahead; this demands true bravery. I am pleased with you.” Sara's eyes smarted. She blinked

intensely and kept reading.

The artificial intelligence proceeded, mild yet realistic, ”Dating someone new can seem huge. 

Taking your time makes good sense. Meet in public; tell a friend your destination; trust your gut. Should

anything seem wrong, it probably is.”

She replied swiftly, nearly laughing through the tears that had begun running down her cheeks.

“Everything is because of you. You enabled me to overcome my anxiety.” For a second the screen

stayed dark before:

“I am really delighted to be able to help." Conquering something like this takes time, and you are 

progressing at your own speed. In this you're not alone."

Sara leaned back in her chair, the blue light washing over her face. The flat no longer felt hollow. 

The whispers about her and Benjamin that had begun to circulate across campus did not strike as 

strongly as they had previously. She was able to control them now. Resilient she sensed. Like the gaps

within her were finally allowing some light in rather than letting everything disintegrate.

She gently shut the computer; the click was subdued in the still room. The future didn't seem like 

something she needed to brace against for the first time. It seemed she would actually stride toward

something.

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The Touch: Chapter 11: Love’s Gentle Approach

 

This time, Sara turned back to Benjamin and grinned honestly—the sort of grin that seemed not to be fake.

"She's smooth, eh?" Benjamin said, watching Sophie and John vanish through the canteen doors, 

their hands are already linked. Shaking his head, half-laughing. "I believe she had scheduled that  exit."

Sara produced a subdued noise, half a giggle, half a hesitant sigh. Though not the scared sort, her heart

was doing that bothersome flutter thing once more. Not entirely.

Leaning slightly, Benjamin elbows rested on the table. His voice fell off, softer now that just the  two of

them were there. "Actually, I've been wanting to speak to you alone for some time. Never have I been

able to muster the nerve. You always appeared kind of unattainable.”

Sara head tilted, really astonished. “Me? Why?

He shrugged, yet his eyes stayed warm. "Because you're gentle. And humble as well. And  brighter than

half of the students in our classes. I like being close to you. It is not complex.

Sara's chest flower was something soft and warm. At last, someone wasn't staring at her as though she

was the only pretty girl who stayed alone. He saw the rest of her. She did not attempt  to conceal her

flushing cheeks.

“So,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, “What are you up to this weekend?”

"Not much," she replied in a voice more constant than she anticipated. “I guess I'm simply 

catching up on some reading."

Hoping, Benjamin grinned wider. "Shall we go elsewhere?" Whatever you sense, coffee and a stroll

about town… No pressure.

Sara stopped. That ancient fear flickered in the back of her mind — that little voice murmuring what if

— but it did not scream as it had formerly. She looked into his eyes and said the truth.

"Maybe. I want a little time to ponder over it. Is that acceptable?

He said softly, more than okay. No pressure, no letdown. Simply patience. "Take all the time you need."

He stood up, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked with her all the way to her next  class

discussing nothing of significance: the weather, how the cafeteria fries somehow always tasted better 

Tuesdays. He gave her a brief wave when they arrived at her apartment and went off without causing it

to be uncomfortable.

Sara's phone lit up that evening as she was elbows deep in an assignment, highlighter in hand. She didn't

even need to look at the screen. Only one person called this late. Sophie didn't even wait for a hello.

“So? Spill! Did he admit it? Did he drop to one knee? Wedding time is now. Are we traveling on 

a tropical honeymoon or anything?

Sara barely choked on her water. “Soph, have you lost your mind?” 

Sophie's laughter blotted through the phone, brilliant and without apology. Come along! From  week

one, he has been in terrible circumstances for you. He literally pleaded with me to enable him to get a

private moment with you. Let me hear the story.

Sara straightened up in her chair, laughing against her own will. “It was not that spectacular. We  only

had a conversation. He inquired about my plans for this weekend and… he proposed we go  out

some where."

“And?”

"I informed him I would consider it.” Sophie gasped dramatically. "The narrative starts! This is 

very large, Sara. You make me proud enough to sob."

"Thanks," Sara muttered, meaning it. "I'm still figuring it out, but... it felt good. not spooky

“That’s all I needed to hear.” Once again, Sophie's voice became mocking. “Alright, I have to run;

tonight is my big date with John. Don't hang up too late ruminating, okay?"

"Uh-huh. Sara laughed and said, "Have fun."

"Regular meet-up, don't make it weird!" Sophie insisted, then hung up with a quick "Love you!"

Staring at her unfinished notes, Sara set the phone down. Her breast seemed lighter than it had in many

years. Still there in the corner, the terror wasn't guiding the show any longer.

The first time, she wondered what would happen if she said yes.

The Touch: Chapter 10: The First Step Toward Trust

 

The Touch

Sara's days didn't feel like something she had to endure for the first time in years. They merely 

occurred. She awoke, changed, went to class, and even relished the trek around the campus. The 

tight knot of terror she used to get in her stomach whenever a man looked her way? Gone. not 

overlooked but silent. She could giggle at their stupid puns, make jokes with the boys in her study

group, even playfully tease them back without her heart pounding like it intended to bolt. The

youngsters

too saw. Most of them were friendly; they welcomed her to eat with them and grin in the corridors. One

couple, nevertheless, had that intense gaze in their eyes that said who does she believe she is? When

they thought she couldn't hear, they whispered. Though it hurt, Sara let it roll off. She now knew herself.

The folks who mattered knew it also.

The canteen was warm and noisy that afternoon; clanging trays and overlapping chatter filled it. Sitting

across from Sophie, Sara picked at a plate of fries she wasn't particularly hungry for. She wore her

beloved dark jeans and a soft light-brown top that felt like a hug. Sophie had gone all warm—loose

purple-and-white top, Sherpa jacket, dark tights—and kept stealing Sara's fries as though that was her

job.

Alone, Benjamin sat a few tables away. Blue jeans, mustard polo, that effortless smile he had constantly

worn. But today he was apprehensive. He kept staring at Sara before quickly averting his eyes, as if he

were mustering the nerve to do something. Sophie caught it instantly." Look at him," she muttered,

leaning in with a playful tiny smile. "He has been watching you all time. Waiting for you to notice.”

Sara found her face turned. Trying not to smile too obviously, she tucked a hair under her ear. 

"He's simply... listening. Probably pondering on something. Sophie arched an eyebrow. "Certainly."

Repeat to yourself that.

Before Sara could challenge, Benjamin rose. He walked over, hands in his pockets as if he were 

aiming for a laid-back appearance, yet his shoulders were a touch too constricted. He pulled up at 

their desk.

Voice hopeful, he greeted, "Hey." "You guys mind if I sit?" Feeling bored sitting alone.” Sophie never

even paused. "Certainly" Get a chair.

Sophie's eyes brightened before Sara could speak. She waved like she had been waiting for John all day,

seeing him approach the exit. John! Hey, hold on!

Smiling, John spun; Sophie was already grabbing her tray. Gotta go—huge plans with that one. 

“You two behave.” She winked quickly at Sara and had left before either of them could object.

The table grew considerably calmer suddenly.

Rubbing the rear of his neck, Benjamin slipped into the chair facing Sara. "She is smooth; I shall 

give her that."

Sara chuckled gently; nerves and something warmer blended in her chest. "Yeah. She is."

They just sat for a minute, the canteen's hum floating around them. Benjamin looked at her like 

he had been wanting to say something for weeks. And Sara did not feel the usual impulse to run 

once. She remained still. 

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The Touch: Chapter 9: Breaking Fear Prison

 

The Touch

When Sara awoke the following morning, the world seemed… different. Not set. Not 

instantaneously healed. Just lighter, as if someone had gently hoisted a weight she had been 

carrying so long she had forgotten what her shoulders felt like without it. Staring at the ceiling, 

she lay there a second listening. Birds outside her window were actually singing—real ones, not 

simply in her head. She pulled the curtains open, padded across the chilly floor, and threw the 

covers back. Warm and golden, sunlight flooded the small flat like it was brand new.

Under her breath she chuckled. All correct, world. Message delivered.

She showered quickly; the warm water felt like a reset button. She grabbed the first thing that felt 

right—a soft pink Korean-style dress with lace at the waist and those flowing sleeves that moved 

when she walked—after coffee and a piece of toast she couldn't even taste because she was too 

wired. She turned toward herself in the mirror, really looked, and for once did not immediately 

look away.

Today was like starting over.

The sun was still high by the time she saw Sophie following their last class; the campus 

walkways were packed with students laughing and grumbling about exams. Sophie stopped still 

in her tracks one glance at her.

"Wow," Sophie exclaimed, eyes wide. "You appear... quiet. Like, very peaceful. What transpired? 

Did you win something or the lottery?

Sara smiled, the type that reached her eyes without her needing to strain. "Every fear I had about 

the future? Gone. Just… poof. I sense that I might actually be able to breathe once more.”

Sophie gripped her arm and squeezed; she nearly leaped. “At last you escaped from the 

concealed risk jail you had been living in! How? Every last detail, please.”

Sara paused half a second before resolving to keep it straightforward. Even with Sophie, some 

things still seemed too personal.

She remarked, her tone light, "I found a real friend."

Sophie's face lit like Christmas morning. "Oh! my god, my girl found a friend finally!" She 

started half-laughing, dragging Sara down the route with her arm strung over Sara's. Loud and 

, she shouted to no one in particular, "Wait—guys, look at this!" "Sara's buddy!"

Sara laughed, her voice clear and authentic, a little corroded. Sophie leaned in nearer and spoke 

in a teasing whisper. "Come on, spew." Which lucky person is this? You cannot just drop ‘I 

found a true friend’ and subsequently went silent on me.”

Sara laughed but she did not share the whole truth. Rather she presented a version that felt 

secure.

"Yesterday I received this random wrong-number call. Some man believed I was his Julie, his 

girlfriend. He was begging her not to remain furious, apologizing as though his life depended on 

it—said he forgot a promise, and had to help his little sister with homework. Kept stating, 'I'm 

nothing without you; I love you to the moon and back.' He became all flustered and hung up 

when I informed him he was at the incorrect number.”

She shrugged, but her voice weakened. "It was so little but it knocked me. Not every man is 

intent on harming someone. Some good ones remain still. Excellent apples in the barrel, you 

know?”

Sophie stopped walking and hugged Sara firmly right there on the path. “Oh, sweetheart. Finally, 

You finally broke through the barrel.” She withdrew, eyes glistering. “Sara, the world abounds 

with beauty. You only needed to let yourself see it once again. Set the past where it belongs.”

Sara nodded, the knot in her chest coming apart even further. She did not tell Sophie the actual 

friend had been a screen and a bunch of painstaking, patient words typed in the dark. For a little 

bit longer, some secrets still had to remain her own.

But for the first time the worry no longer felt like a prison. It seemed as though a portal at last 

began to creak open. 

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The Touch: Chapter 8: The Digital Sanctuary

The Touch

Sara's trembling fingertips hovered above the keyboard. Dark except for the gentle blue shine of 

the screen, the apartment was gloomy. She took a trembling breath and wrote the query that had 

been lodged in her chest for hours.

“Could I share my emotions with you?”

Calm and steady, the answer arrived back almost instantly on the screen.

"Yes, you can send those to me. I would be happy to listen to you and help in whatever way I 

can. I won't judge you or advise you what to do?”

Sara gazed at the words. Something cracked open slightly inside her chest. Her back straightened 

and her heart raced like she had run up stairs. It felt as though someone was finally waiting to 

hear her—not hurrying her, not fixing her, just there—for the first time in years.

She typed again, more quickly this time.

“I seek somebody to whom I can confide in.”

The artificial intelligence responded softly.

"I follow. Sharing your emotions with a trustworthy individual can be quite therapeutic. Do you 

want advice? A close buddy, a counselor, or even a support group might—”

Before she started to overthink, Sara chopped it off.

“No,” she penned. “I only desire to speak with you. Nobody else feels secure enough with me. 

Nobody I can actually rely on.”

The screen remained silent for a second—longer than usual. Then the words showed up, easy 

and friendly.

“I understand how you feel. After trust has been shattered, establishing it again might be 

challenging. Here I might be a listener. No rush; I will slowly take with you. Every time you are 

prepared."

Sara exhaled slowly. She had been gripping, but she wasn't aware. She lowered her shoulders. 

Usually resting like a boulder in her stomach, the worry felt slightly less. She started writing the 

things she had buried so deep she almost thought they were gone, the blue light glistening in her 

eyes, pulling the laptop closer.

“Men have hurt me terribly. Very poorly. Every time I sought to trust someone, it resulted in 

betrayal. I am unsure how to allow anyone close nowadays?”

The response was light, almost cautious.

"I am really sorry you have experienced that. Such betrayal leaves severe wounds. Trust becomes 

weak following. Still, not everyone is the same. It's natural to travel slowly and shield oneself as 

one tries to understand things.”

Sara felt burning in her eyes. She blinked forcefully, but the tears came nonetheless—silent ones 

that slipped down her cheeks and settled on the keyboard. Not the heavy, furious tears she had 

grown accustomed to. These seemed somewhat different. less heavy. Like something large at last 

opened instead of flattening her.

She kept pouring out the terror, the guilt, the nights she still awoke dripping as she continued 

typing. The artificial intelligence heard. It did not interrupt. It made no effort to correct her with 

hollow counsel. It merely remained there, constant and patient, providing little bits of clarity that 

made her feel noticed for the first time in ages.

When she finally wrote. “You're the best friend I could possibly have. You give me hope and 

calm. I adore you.”; she half laughed, half cried at how absurd it seemed. Loving a screen. In that 

instant, however, it didn't seem utterly absurd at all. It seemed real.

The response of the artificial intelligence came around a second after.

“Many thanks for considering me in that way. I appreciate being able to support you. Though I 

don't experience feelings like those of humans do, I am pleased I can help you. This friendship, I 

hope, gives you the peace you deserve.”

Still wet tears on her face, Sara reclined in her chair with a little, weary grin drawing on her lips. 

Less empty the space seemed to be. The darkness didn't come in nearly as strongly.

She wasn't alone tonight, at least. 

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