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Cold-Blooded Rage

I found my journal under the living room couch minutes later. Then, I started ripping the pages out, one by one. Line by line was torn to spreads, just like me.

In my rampage, I took off my believe jeans and stomped on them in my underwear. Tears were rolling down my face in a hurry and I didn’t care that my make-up was messed up. I threw my jeans around the room in cold-blooded rage.

I kicked them into the couch. I threw them at the doors, crying hysterically. But, when they hit the back porch sliding one it opened and Jason ran in, grabbing me. “Let me go!â€? I screamed but his big arms wrapped around me in a restraining way.

He didn’t speak, just waited till I stopped struggling in his arms and till my hysterical sobs turned to sniffs. He knew that I was drained, emotionally and physically.

“Let me go.â€? I whispered and he eased me down to the floor, cradling me in his lap like a baby. Jason was stroking my hair until he saw Collin’s note on the floor. “No, don’t.” But he grabbed it and started to read.

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