On some level, Amy knew this wasn't like her -- wasn't her at all, not really.  Something was doing this to her, making her feel these terrible urges and act this way.  But knowing that didn't help one bit.  She felt what she felt, and she couldn't stop it, or soothe the need.<br/><br/>Her fingers just weren't enough, she couldn't fill herself the way she needed to be filled, and she sobbed helplessly as the aching overwhelmed everything else, leaving her shivering and desperate.  Every moment felt like an hour, and still she was all alone...