Jennybicky

I slam the door as loud as I can, my rage burning through my veins like fire. I hear screams for me to return, but I block the screeching voice from my ears. I walk quickly down the stairs, which stink of rubbish, and run into the heavy red door. It makes a huge thump as I smack into it with my shoulder. I can feel the pain shooting up my arm, but I don’t care. I begin to run. I’m running faster than I ever have before. My throat is stinging from the cold air, my legs aching like cracked, rotten table legs. I am running purely on the power of my own rage. And just as quickly as a fire spreads through a baking hot forest, my ene