I Am The Fire {Marisa/River}

Anger was bottled up inside of me for several days on end, just waiting for me to give it the opportunity to slip through the cracks on my being. Pacing through each and every room of my personal dwelling didn't seem to aid in easing the rage at all, however. Instead, all the furious feelings swelling simultaneously built up on top of one another, never seeming as if they were going to come back down to a level that could even be close to being considered what some would refer to as 'normal'. The depression and despair that I felt during most moments of my dreary existence that one may call life didn't fade when this fury started to bubble and brew, either, though.

I don't believe that the enmity I feel toward almost every other individual in my life will ever fade. Although, it doesn't seem as if the disgust I have toward my own being will ever fade, either. It's likely that such a feeling ever leaving my mind is an impossibility, but I suppose that's alright with me. Then again, if I have no other option, doesn't it have to be something I live with anyway?

---

Just because I've been bottling my anger for so long doesn't mean that I'll never let it be unleashed into the world around me, however. Typically, I'm not one to target innocent-looking individuals to take out my rage on. If I have an option, I'll direct the fury towards someone who deserves it, such as one of the vile people who decide that they should target my best friend, Persephone, with rotten words and even crueler actions. Sometimes, I won't even direct my anger at those people, either, though.

From time to time, when my antagonism towards the rest of the world truly needs to be unleashed, it will land on someone I've never met, but just seems like the correct person to be at the receiving end of it all. The girl I'd come across on this particular, ungodly humid and hot morning wasn't an individual I'd ever encountered in my eighteen years on Earth so far, but she reminded me of myself. She looked like someone who had enough of her own rage built up, that perhaps we could even have our own sort of argument. For one reason or another, arguing with strangers that shared existence on this planet with me felt right. It seemed as if yelling my words and raging at strangers were the most effective means of chilling my brain out, in the end.

Outrage seemed to be the only solution, even if those on the receiving end had no understanding as to why they were the targets of my malice.

---

The girl I'd approached that day was by herself, making her the perfect one to use as the victim of my rage unleash my anger on. She looked like a bitch to me, if I was being completely honest. The way she held her head high made me want to punch her in the throat, but I wouldn't be getting violent towards anyone. At least, not today, that is. Perhaps I would give her the true show of how furious I was with the world one of these days. This just wasn't quite the time for that to happen.

When I walked over to this girl, she'd been talking down the street. I placed my hand on her shoulder with a bit of force, hopefully stopping her in her tracks.

"You're a fucking ugly little bitch, you know that?" I said to her. I didn't genuinely think she was ugly, or a bitch, as I didn't even know her, but it was the best way for me to start an argument like I wanted to. If anything, I thought she was quite pretty.

She didn't need to know any of that, though. She just needed to know that I was ready to give her a verbal smack down, even though she hadn't done a single thing wrong. I almost felt guilty for saying those words to her, to be entirely honest.

Almost.

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