One needle finger twitched, and twitched again, then wriggled itself out from under the rock. The other needle fingers were also twitching—twitch, twitch, twitch. They too struggled out from under the rock, and after a few moments they all reattached themselves to the hand. The hand opened up and went through the blanket, then grabbed the single button shaped key that hung on the necklace, and then it started upwards. A week passed before the hand made it to the top of the well. The hand couldn't get through the holes with the key, but it wasn't going to drop it, no NEVER. Another week passed as the hand clawed apart the woodwork—an easy but long job for the needle hand. Soon there was a big enough hole, the hand jumped up and ran like a spider; dragging the key behind it. The hand quickly approached the large pink apartment building; it ducked behind a bush and stayed stock still, as still as unattached hands should be still.
The witching hour, the hand could feel it. The hand jumped up and ran to the window. It took one long needle finger and traced a circle—over and over it traced until the glass was cut right through and then the finger took the glass circle out and deposited it on the lawn. It jumped through the window and went to the little door in the middle apartment. It inserted the key, and turned…then it took the key back out and brought it with it through the door. It raced through the tunnel and onto the arm of a long needle. Then it picked up some thread, and two buttons that had long been discarded. The buttons were placed on the table—a grasshopper with glass eyes. The thread found it's was through the eye of the needle…with some difficulty. A button was picked up and sewn on the face of a puppet—like monster, then the other button. The monster put the needle down and went to the key, she caressed it lovingly. Then she took the key and went to her workshop. She took a doll, one of a little pioneer girl with millions of little ringlets. She took out every feature and turned it inside out, and then she put the key in it, filled it with sand, and sewed it back up, and added new features to it. The doll was now of a sweet looking girl with blue hair. She went to a window and threw the doll out; strangely…it floated instead of fell. The Bedlam went back to her workshop and picked up another doll. Within a few moments this doll too looked completely different; the Bedlam again threw it out the window. She went to the bug room and sat, spinning another world. The Bedlam was furious, she had never been bested at her own game; she loved her children and they loved her…enough to sew buttons over their eyes. The one child who had EVER gotten out was the same one that tried to destroy the key; her unloving daughter—Coraline. The Bedlam smiled, and shifted into Coraline's other mother. She grinned
"Oh Coraline…I've been waiting for you. My dear, sweet, daughter, you'll stay here forever and sew buttons over your eyes for me, wont you?" With this the bedlam seemed to get a new idea as she went back to her workshop to make a whole new type of world.
Coraline Jones was a busy, neglected, child. She had only two Friends, Wybie, and cat. Only one of her friends could talk to her. But she also had a Scary and Horrifying enemy. One more deadly and vicious than anything this world had to offer. That Enemy was the Bedlam. She didn't realize it that morning—she was running out the door, late. She noticed when she came back home. Cat was guarding her door and hissed at her as she went inside—Coraline went anyway; thinking hi to be hungry.
"Coraline?" Her mother's voice rang out "Now I'm singing this song about Coraline. She's a doll, she's a peach she's a pal of mine. She as cute as the button in the eyes of everyone who's ever laid eyes on Coraline." As the woman sang Coraline opened her mouth to say she was home…when she realized that t was IMPOSIBLE for her mother to know that song. She chanced a quick peak in the parlor at the door—the WIDE OPPEN door. She snuck upstairs, got her explores gear and a few extra clothes, and then ran out the house. Other mother heard her from inside the kitchen and smiled.
"Thiers's nowhere to hide Coraline. Besides—you HAVE to come home eventually, then you'll go to your 'better' home…permanently."She whispered happily. "But, just in case" She murmured; she whistled and two life—sized dolls came out of nowhere. "Make sure she come home safe and soon" She hissed. They bowed
"Yes mother" She smiled and continued to cook and sing
Now here's how I see it. The hand got up after it was severed—it can probably get up after being smashed. I also think it was only Other Wybie that couldn't leave, the mice did it—twice so puppets can leave. She just didn't like him so he has no actual skin to protect himself.