She lay in the dark, longing to fall asleep so that it would all end.

If only I could lash out, she thought, remembering the adrenaline high and feel of bone breaking under her fists. Not to mention pain...sweet, satisfying pain...

She was tired of hiding this desire, of stilling the tremors in her arms.

Sighing, she sat up, punched her pillow as hard as she could, and lay back down.

Football was almost as good; she could lose herself in the physical exertion and steady thump of her pounding feet; but she had to be careful. When she last lost it during sports...

She kicked him, over and over...screaming, he begged her to stop...she just kept kicking...she laughed at his helplessness...someone started to drag her off, so she hit him then kicked some more...and even now she could remember the feeling of freedom, of release.

Hot tears of shame rolling down her face, she sat up to punch her pillow again, and realized it was sunrise.

Another day. Crap.

No one can ever know...