And Then I lost it.

I hope you understand that rush you feel, as your fist collides with another person’s face, because I just can’t find words to describe it.

I really just needed to release.

Her body fell to the floor, her hand on her mouth. Shock played across her features. She just couldn’t believe that I had actually done that. In fact, not a single person around me believed I had actually done it. I just couldn’t stop smiling even when two large bodied men tackled me to the ground.

Everything seemed to have happened in slow motion. Someone helped that vile woman up. Someone called the police. Someone started crying.

The police put me in handcuffs, which seems a tad over kill to me. I wasn’t resisting. I wasn’t fighting. I was very obedient. In fact, I was enjoying every minute of what happened.

.

The jail cell was cold, and my knuckles were bruised. Sadly, they weren’t battle scars or anything cool.

I’ve had a habit of punching walls. I’ve got a lot of bad habits actually. Well. Maybe not bad.