Massacre.

I’ve never been this angry.

I’ve never endured the sensation of hot molten lava bubbling up inside. I’ve never felt such a strong urge to ruin everything in my sight. To punch. To kick. To ruin anything and everything.

And to scream, scream like an animal.

But I kept it all in.

I watched him drive away.

I watched him leave me and I pulled a chair from the table and sat in front of the door.

I waited.

Bones tried to get me to move, to do any sort of recreational activity but I wouldn’t budge.

I couldn’t get Reaper’s face out of my head. That scowl, those narrowed eyes. The look of annoyance. And the tone of his voice. He made it seem like I was nagging him, like I was clingy. It pissed me off.

He only returned when the sun came down and the moon was high in the sky. And he had a pretty girl latched onto his arm, sucking at his neck. They stepped through the door and walked by me like I didn’t exist, up to his room.

I stood up and brought the chair back to the table, but instead of pushing it back into its place, I gently placed it on its side.

And that’s what I did, for a couple of hours. I quietly made a mess of everything. I flipped furniture over, so carefully. I laid his precious vases and knick-knacks all over the place. And when everything was everywhere I went upstairs to my room.

I heard her, even with his door closed, I heard her moaning. I gritted my teeth and laid down in my bed.

The subtle burning feeling on my collar bone never ceased.

~

I was soft, but it was still there. I felt sore in general too, I just stayed in bed and closed my eyes.

My door swung open and hit the wall. I heard Reaper’s steps make their way to me. I was pulled out of bed and dragged down the hallway. I stayed slacked, shocked at what was happening. When it came to the stairs I stumbled my way down as Reaper pushed me. He yanked me onto the ground floor of the house and pulled me into the living room.

“What the fuck is this?” he growled and gave me a harsh shove. I fell to my knees and finally realized that he did just drag me downstairs. He’d never put his hands on me like that before. I didn’t answer him, the anger from yesterday was resurfacing.

“What the hell is all of this, Massacre!” he yelled, hands coming to grab onto me but I smacked them away. We both stared at each other momentarily before we started to brawl.

He kept trying to push me down, but I wasn’t having it. It was just like the last time he brought a girl home, only a lot rougher and I wasn’t crying. I was angry. I was putting up a good fight but so was he. And it got more violent, I started kicking and screaming for him to get his hands off me, but he just scrambled more to protect himself and get me under control. He threw all of his weight onto me, my arms crumbling.

He was starting to have an advantage, his hands gripping my shirt but I wiggled out of it. He reached out to me again, this time his hand gripping my collar bone.

I lost it, in a different sort of way. I howled and cried out and fell to the ground. I started to cry, his hand finally off of me, but a horrible burning sensation spread across where he touched. I curled into a ball and cupped my hand over the pain. I whimpered and wailed.

“Massacre-Massacre, stop-Massacre what’s wrong?” He asked, his fingers skimming across my back and threading through my hair. He folded over me, like a blanket and rested his head on top of mine while I stayed bent into myself on the floor.

“Massacre let me see,” he whispered gently.

I slowly began to sit up, tears still flowing and whimpers still coming out. I carefully cradled the raised skin left by his touch. Reaper moved to sit in front of me and cupped my face. He furrowed his eyebrows, his thumb gently pulling down the bottom lid of my right eye. And then he carefully moved my hands away from below my collar bone. I looked with him, seeing some of the marks of my tattoo an angry red.

Reaper slowly pulled away and walking into his office, closing the door behind him,

I was left to clean up my own pieces.