Page 45 of Was I Ever Free

Just fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine.

The paralyzing hopelessness suddenly takes a new form, my breathing accelerating, fists clenching. I am feeling untethered. Snapped. And I no longer care.

I storm back into my room slamming the door on my way in, I do not stop until I’m standing in front of Bastian. I must look like an angry bull, nostrils flaring, arms locked to my sides, fists still clenched, nails digging into my palm.

“Why?” I say, my voice cracking as if I am about to cry, and that only makes the anger burn brighter behind my heaving chest.

Bastian at least has the decency to stop what he is doing and swings around to face me. He doesn’t answer, simply cocking his eyebrow in question.

“Why?” I repeat with more heat this time. “Why do they keep doing this?”

His face stays passive, and I let out a groan of frustration knowing that I am not making any sense. I pace across the room and then back feeling caged within all these repressed emotions trying to claw their way up. Caged, like I have felt for so long, not knowing when it would end.

“I hate them,” I say through clenched teeth. “They deserved to die. Every single one of them.” I don’t feel like explaining myself, my thoughts burning, melting into one.

Muddled, jagged, and sharp.

This is beyond words. And if I do not let it out, it will swallow me whole, once and for all.

Needing to justdosomething, I turn to the bed and start ripping the sheets off the mattress in small bursts of anger, throwing them on the ground and then stomping on them. I have just enough self-awareness to realize how I must look, and stop, my legs tangled in white sheets at my feet.

“Sorry,” I breathe out.

The look I find on Bastian’s face is not one I have seen before, and I am too upset to truly take it in. It is different from the other times I have found him studying me. It is intense. Like he has gone beyond curiosity this time and into another realm entirely. His eyes snap to mine, and I am left breathless when he smiles.

“You can do better than that,” he drawls, now standing, leaning back onto the small desk, his arms folding over his bare chest.

I blink back at him a few times, unsure what he means, until he pushes the chair toward me as if that gesture will coax me into understanding. But when my eyes lift back up to his, the words I was missing are written clearly across his irises.

Wreak havoc.

It is not permission. But an invitation.

My breathing quickens as my gaze falls back to the chair. I untangle myself from the mess at my feet and step forward, the silence now promising something greater than just a simple outburst. I curl my fingers around the chair, and when the wood meets the wall with a loud crack—my anger turns to rage.

My vision narrows and I lose all sense of thought. All that matters is my hand finding the next thing to break, to destroy, to shatter, smash, or splinter.

I hear myself scream, it is primal and guttural but I barely register it. For the first time in my life, I do not care. I allow myself to become consumed. The memories, the pain, the feelings attached to such decaying thoughts. All of it.

And in turn, I destroy everything around me and it feelsgood.

More than good.

Like the cage door finally swinging open.

It feels like freedom.

24

Ithought seeing her sing was mesmerizing.

But this?

This is a masterpiece.

A rebirth through destruction, and I have the privilege to witness all of it.

All of her.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com