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I blink.

Huh.

Okay.

I pick up a plate next and throw it into the air before swinging. It explodes the second the bat connects, and a strange tingling moves through my body, like something inside me has been asleep for months and I just poked it awake.

So I grab another.

CRASH.

Then another.

CRASH.

A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.

I freeze and look toward the mirror.

“Okay. I get it.”

I reach for another plate, but this one has writing across the front.

Just Married.

I stare at it.

“Oh, fuck you.”

I throw it into the air and swing. The bat connects perfectly, sending pieces flying everywhere, and this time I don't even try to stop the smile spreading across my face.

I think I like this.

For the next few minutes, I destroy everything I can get my hands on. Bottles and plates, a lamp that takes three hits before it finally gives up, and an old keyboard whose keys go flying across the room so spectacularly that I actually laugh.

I swing harder, the movement becoming easier every time the bat connects with something. Sweat starts gathering beneath the orange suit and my arms begin to ache, but I don't care.

Crawling by Linkin Park starts playing, and I turn toward the mirror.

“Did you steal my angry playlist?”

No answer.

“Asshole.”

Still nothing.

I shake my head, smiling despite myself, and turn back toward the room.

And I see the bed.

The smile disappears.

For a moment, I can't move.

White sheets.

Metal rails.