Like an animal, running around, doing their bidding, fulfilling their every whim. They don’t see what’s lurking inside, threatening to break through. They don’t see the slow churning of insanity. They don’t see, but I can fucking feel it.
It’s eating me piece by piece, gnawing at me like a worm. Festering like an ugly wound, a boil ready to burst, just add some pressure and there it goes.
Pressure. They keep adding it. Pushing me further. Further and faster, like they’re trying to see when I break. Storm knows better than this, she fucking should know better than this, I’m not well. I’m no good. I’m not fucking sane anymore.
They keep pushing me further and faster, each and every one of them. All except one. And one of these days I will snap.
She beat me to it, though.
She lost it at English lit, exactly 10.32 am yesterday.
Started screaming and trashing, tearing the pages of the book she was supposed to read. When her teacher tried to calm her down she tore in to him, nearly took his head off. Next to go were her classmates. Cuts, bruises, broken bones. Nothing fatal, none of them dead. But hurting.
Fuck. I wish I would have been there and seen it happening.
I bet she was beautiful.
I bet Bobby’s last thoughts before his head slammed against the chalkboard weren’t ‘oh-my-god-I’m-going-to-die’. He was swearing the god for sure, but I’m positive that the boner I saw on him when they carted him out of there was telling the truth.
Pathetic little prick.
Like I was any better.
Seeing her like this, pacing back and forth in the half-light, their blood on her drying slowly, her eyes scanning my every move… I’m so fucking hard that it hurts.
She’s too beautiful to be looked when the lights are on, so I adjusted the level of the light in her cell to the dimmest setting. She seemed to like it. I like it. I can still see her, but the image is slightly blurred. I don’t have to see those eyes of hers. I don’t have to see the fire still burning. I can keep pretending that it doesn’t matter. I can keep pretending that she’s better off locked away like this. I can keep pretending that I’m not planning to go in there as soon as everybody else goes to sleep.
“Logan, there’s nothing we can do right now.”
Fuck off, weather girl.
“I know how hard it is for you, it’s hard for us all to see her like this…”
Yeah. I’m hard enough. Get the fuck out of here now.
“But I’m sure it’ll be better as soon as she calms down a bit.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right… I’m… I’m going to sit here for a while. Just to make sure that she’s alright. But you can go to sleep; I’ll wake you up if anything happens.”
“Okay. But remember to get some sleep. You’re no good to anybody if you’re all tired and cranky.”
“Good night, Storm.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Logie run off with this one, as usual. I don't have a clue where this is going, but... Heck. He deserves to rant a bit every now and then.