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Anger. Pure Anger.

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She stares at the door from inside the house;

contemplating the run, how fast it would be. Her shoes. Her coat. Her ipod. Done.

She wanted to make him feel something. She wanted to hurt him so much he cried.

She wanted her mum to come and saver her. She always made things better.

Always.

The girl-isolated-never cried when she was upset, only when she was angry. She was fuming.

The tears stung her pupils like acid

She saw headlights coming towards her through the window, piercing the night.

A needle piercing the skin

And the rage bubbled up in her head until she thought she may explode

Every muscle so tense she ached, as she saw the car ceasing to stop. She wanted her mum.

She was let down once again...



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