RAGE

Rage.

It courses through her blood like a wild, uncontrollable fire fuelled by every painful thump of her heart.
It blinds her.
Blinds her to the world, to her actions. Her vision is clouded, blurry.
She smells something. Something almost metallic, unpleasant.
The screaming tears at her mind mercilessly. The screaming, screaming –

– make it stop, makeitstop, makeitstopmakeitSTOP, STOP –

She feels pain.
She tastes blood.
– She’s bitten her lip.

And the cruel, cold silence is deafening, a dark chasm of pure emptiness to fill the void.

Fear. Relief.

Her hand trembles.
The bloodied knife slips, and clatters to the ground.

Bastard.