Cinthia was too busy trying to choke back her sobs to fight back against Ellie grasping her hand. Once again her stump rose, but the nothingness that followed only seemed to bring upon a whole new wave of repressed emotion. Between sobs and hiccups, she fell to her knees as she spoke. “I’m so fucking **useless**! I’ve been trying to act like it didn’t bother me, like I didn’t mind the stares I got, but I just. **CAN’T**. I HATE IT. I HATE THE EYES. **I HATE THIS SHITTY FUCKING BODY**.” It looked like she wanted to tear her stub off, the way she glared daggers at it through clouded vision. “I CAN’T EVEN OPEN A FUCKING CAN WITHOUT PERFORMING SOME SHITTY ACROBATIC MANEUVER! FUCK. **ME**. FUCK ME! I THOUGHT I’D HAVE THAT STUPID PROSTHETIC DONE BY NOW BUT I CAN BARELY PUT A SCREW IN SOME STUPID ART PROJECT, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME? WHAT HAPPENED TO ME? WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME?!” Once again she broke into full on tears, bringing her face to her knee as a means to shield the shame all over her face.