Rage

This is a dark story. At least, it feels dark to me. Maybe it feels darker than it actually is, because it's something that happened to me. Still ... if reading about bad things happening to people might hurt or harm you in any way, then please don't read this story. This is something I'm writing for my own sanity. It would break my heart if anything I wrote hurt someone. So, if you're not sure you should read this story, then please don't.

Like I said, this is a dark story. It started in a dark room, in a house my family had just moved into. In that room there were three bay windows. Someone tapped on one of those windows. Being curious, I opened the window. Or maybe I was stupid. I was three. What did I know about not opening windows to strangers?

And here, the memory starts to fragment. I have a vague recollection of him coming through the window, and talking to him, and him seeming friendly at first, then ... there's just ... blankness. Next bit of memory I have is being on the mattress on the floor (we had just moved in, and hadn't had time to put the beds together). My hands were pinned above my head. My nose and mouth were covered by a hand. I couldn't breath.

I remember being terrified, but not the exact cause. Maybe it was the not being able to breathe. I remember being told to shut up. After a while of me trying to scream through his hand, he threatened my family. That's when Rage woke up. After a few failed attempts, my teeth found purchase somewhere on the inside of his hand. I bit down hard.

And then ... more blankness. I vaguely remember white hot wrath filling me when I could breathe again. Then ... something happened. Next thing I know, he was gone. I was rolled up in my blankets, screaming for my parents. I think it took a while before I realized one of them was holding me. I think I cried a lot when I did. I also forgot a lot, including Rage.

=-=-=

A few years later, when I was in first grade, I saw someone who had been bullying me for a while. At the far end of the sidewalk, I saw the bully harassing someone, and Rage woke up. A wrath I'd forgotten filled my chest. I ran down the sidewalk, and rammed the bully. Somehow, even though he was bigger than me, I still knocked him down.

Next thing I know I was sitting on his chest. My fingers were dug into his hair. There was a gutteral growl. It was coming from me, even though it felt like it had to be coming from somewhere else. Rage was slamming the back of his head into the sidewalk. Okay ... it was me. But it also wasn't. Or maybe I just want to believe it wasn't.

I was ringed in by kids my own age. They were cheering me on. I could see a hunger in their eyes. Seeing what was in their eyes made my stomach turn. I'm not sure if Rage noticed them or not. I'm not sure what would have happened if someone hadn't physically picked me up off the bully.

And ... you guessed it ... more blankness. I remember being in deep, deep trouble. I think I'd been beaten for beating someone up, but I don't actually remember what happened. It's like I know *something* happened, and vaguely remember being terrified, but nothing specific.

I guess that's all I have the strength to say for now. I'm a little bit surprised I've gotten this far in writing everything out. I've been half expecting to blank out, and find myself somewhere else. I think I'll just stop writing now, and see if I can get away with submitting this, before the blankness comes.

Wish me luck.



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This story is 657 words long.