VIOLET CRAWFORD couldn't think of a time in which she wasn't angry.
Anger was her right hand, her closest confidant, her biggest motivator. It was one of the scarce beings in Violet's life that lifted her to excel at the things she did. Anger dried her tears. Fuelled her drive. Promised her it would never allow her to look weak. Coaxed her into stepping onto a dark road she knew she was capable of walking down.
It had been with her for so long, coursing through her veins, that she had gotten used to its habits. She knew when it would pounce, when it would try to manipulate her. So she had grown keen to disguise it. Feed the emotion's relentless hunger through other outlets that were less detrimental to her life.
Violet hated it. Hated that she drew comfort from her reliance on the emotion. Yet she knew it would never leave her. It was part of her, no matter how hard she tried to dismiss it.
She despised it, but without anger, Violet had nothing.
She was nothing.
Which is exactly what the twisted emotion loved about its relationship with Violet. It's sickening, toxic, destructive relationship. No matter how Violet felt about it, she would always go back. She would always run back into its embrace for help.
And when Violet experienced one of the most traumatic events of her life, it practically erupted with excitement. Because it knew, she wouldn't be able to hide it away for much longer.
It knew, that its hunger would be satisfied in the way it deserved.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ˏˋ°•⁀➷ DISCLAIMER: this story will contain themes such as: strong language, violence, death, cannibalism, alchohol, drugs, ptsd and more.
