This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.
The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/grammpapi on 2026-07-04 17:42:14+00:00.
I'm posting this because I need some help. I've tried everything, hot water soak, cold water shower, aloe vera.
Let me explain.
I recently got back from holiday, it was lovely, great food and brilliant people.
Except for getting sun burnt.
I was the only ginger in my friendship group. Probably the only ginger on the entire Greek island. But I refused to be left out just because of some sun. I still went to the beach everyday with my friends, drinking beers and having a laugh. My friends kept moaning telling me to put on more suncream, but I hadn't flown all that way to hide myself in the shade.
It wasn't until I got home I realised how badly I'd burnt. I arrived back somewhat pink and tender, radiating heat. I spent the next couple of days lathering up with aloevera gel.
It must've been 2 days later. I was back at work, back to reality, when I started to peel.
It started small, pulling thin patches from my shoulders. They came off with ease, it was like taking the screen protector off a new phone.
I was engrossed.
Then I pulled the perfect part, from the elbow straight down my forearm and over the back of my hand.
I laid it out.
I stared at it.
It was perfect.
My hand was wonderful to peel, I'd find an edge beginning to lift and peel it back delicately. I could see my freckles in it, the tiny grooves of my fingerprints, even the way it would stretch around an old scar. There would be a slight bit of tension before release, revealing a softer, newer flesh underneath.
I'd taken to rubbing my feet together before bed, scratching away at an itch that I could never quite get. For some reason I found this comforting. I would drift off softly chasing the sensation.
One morning I stood with my back to the shower, I'd neglected the loose skin there that I couldn't reach. The water found an opening on my shoulder and ran beneath the skin. I could feel the warm water spreading between my skin and back, it ballooned out and sagged before it finally split.
I stood and watched as skin, wasted, washed down the drain.
But when I really think about it, that could've been one of my best pulls.
From then on I would pull the unreachable bits with some kitchen tongs and some good stretching in the mirror. For the itch I rubbed my back against the door frame, I thought about stopping when the lock scraped so hard it drew blood.
For a moment the itch disappeared.
I went to work until they asked me to stop coming in. At first, I think they were concerned. People had mentioned I was getting thinner.
Then concern turned to disgust.
I heard people whispering that I smelt rotten. Of course they were exaggerating, a little BO at most. I just hadn't showered properly in a while.
People started to wonder why I was at work with a long sleeve shirt. I told people I was embarrassed by the peeling.
Truth is, I knew I wouldn't be able to resist pulling away at it at work. I'd be typing away and small pieces would flake off and land on my desk.
I was missing out.
I had to sneak to the bathroom and pull a few pieces for myself. It was better than any cigarette break I ever had.
It was only a problem if I got a good piece. One time at work, my sock had made an indent around my leg, it made the perfect edge, slickly it pulled right up my calf all the way to my knee.
I had to sneak it home. I kept it in my lunchbox so it wouldn't get damaged.
It's my favourite piece in my collection. It took some of my tattoo with it.
It looks beautiful.
The layers seemed to get more red, more vibrant as more layers peeled off. With every layer my tattoos seemed to get brighter. Newer. Then parts of them began disappearing with skin I pulled away. Eventually I had none.
A fresh canvas.
Then came the harder bits.
I started using some tweezers to get in the tight spaces, my knuckles were tougher, they peeled off in callus lumps. But they preserved all the little creases and folds of the joint. I liked those.
I peeled far enough down one finger that I finally reached the nail bed. Then I found the edge beneath the nail.
Once I had the edge, it peeled off effortlessly. They'd been so itchy.
I was never truly worried until I woke up and found my little toe in the corner of my fitted sheet. There was no blood. It had simply come off in the night.
I put it in my collection, honestly I was unsure what to do with it, I didn't think it was truly collection worthy. Unlike my big toe, that felt collection worthy.
I didn't have to worry anyway, it wasn't long before I had a full collection.
I couldn't help but spend the whole day peeling, it was captivating, more captivating than work or anything else had ever been.
Night started to roll in when my stomach grumbled and woke me from an itching daze. I looked at my hand, I peeled and scratched it completely raw.
My eye was caught. I could still see a piece, wedged in the corner of my knuckle.
I had a dental utensil. A long thin metal point, when i wasnt scratching the gaps in my teeth, I used it for small, awkward, unrewarding bits like this.
This was the first time I made it to the bone.
This bit was deeper than others. When I hooked the point beneath it and pulled there was resistance. A sharp pinch. For a moment I thought I'd finally gotten it. Then the itch returned. I wasn't as disappointed as I should've been.
But it was deeper this time. Inside the bone.
I'm writing this with my right thumb, it's the only finger that still works on the screen. I'm lying in bed listening to the krrk… krrk… krrk of my feet rubbing together. They don’t feel soft anymore. But still it soothes me for a moment.
The itch is everywhere now. I can feel it all over me, it's in my bones, I grind my teeth together trying to reach the itch inside them, but it's never enough.
My left hand is bone, but it still itches. I stare at it when I drift off. It might be the light, but I swear I can see edges beginning to lift.
I don't want to run out.