"Are you fucking serious?" I growled in his face, "Do you know what it's like to kill? To consciously take a life? Do you know what that does to a person? Well, do you?! Everyday is a nightmare. It weighs down your conscious and any little detail can bring back memories about it." I grabbed a pair of scissors off the counter and held it up to his face. "Do you see these? I can't use scissors anymore because I rammed a pair through a man. Every time I'm forced to use a pair, all I can think of is how anger took over and I acted without realizing what I was doing until it was done. That's why I'm still in my 'club'. They keep me grounded so I don't go off again. That's why I box, so I don't lose control of myself. Do you know what it's like to have fury ignite in your veins every time you see a man covered in tattoos? Do you know how it feels every time I see or hear about a rape or abuse case? Do you know what it feels like to not be able to do anything to help the ones you love?" At this point I was so furious that I punched him in the jaw with everything I had. My anger flowed down my arm, through my fist and into the side of his face. I heard a shatter of a bowl and I turned to see Mom staring at me in horror. Dad came running in and new exactly what had happened just by looking at the scene. He turned to me and even before he had the chance to tell me to get out, I bolted. I grabbed a small kit that was sitting on a chest by our front door and ran. There was some hippy chick who was unloading my brother's car and bringing in a bowl of salad. She watched me run past and in the brief second where my blue eyes made contact with her brown ones, I knew she was Marks and she knew that I hurt him. I wanted to explain, but the feeling of being caught by Dad and what he would do to me kept me going.
I couldn't go to anybody's house. I would hurt them. I was emotionally compromised so I couldn't use any backup houses in the area. I ran past houses, but tears blurred them so that it looked like I was running in a never-ending nightmare. I eventually stopped in front of a park when my lungs couldn't handle it anymore. Hiding between a bush and some trees, I sat down and cried. Not the type of crying where you eventually can't breathe and your eyes are swollen shut, but silent tears that eventually would turn into chest heaving sobs of despair.
Everything I had worked so hard for was ruined. I had betrayed the Lakas and what it stood for, I had most likely broken my brothers jaw, and I had ruined any chances of getting along with the girlfriend/fiancee/sister-in-law.
After my sobs subsided, I shakily took the tiny case that I had grabbed off the chest and opened it. Inside was an X-acto blade. I slowly took it out and contemplated it. I don't know what 'it' was. Would I just slit somewhere that wasn't fatal to relieve stress and anger? Would I slit somewhere noticeable? Would I slit something vital and just end it all? Turning the blade over in my fingertips, I decided that I'd slit my wrist and see what happened. Mouth trembling, I took the blade up against my skin.