𝐆𝐈𝐔𝐋𝐈𝐀 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐎, a young girl who's never known stability. Raised by a reckless, unstable mother, she spent her childhood caught between drug runs and police raids, ruining her right for a normal childhood. One night when her mother go...
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Smoke curls up slow, twisting, then disappears in the cold morning air with a slow breeze.
I take another drag, the smoke tasting bitter, and let my mind wander.
My temper got me in trouble constantly growing up. I never thought it was an issue, it was everyone else that had a problem with it.
They'd whisper behind my back, say I overreacted, that I was too much. I was dragged me to doctors, and they slapped some fancy name on it. DMDD. Like I needed a medical term to tell me I had a bad attitude. I didn't care about the label. All I knew was it made me feel broken.
People thought it explained everything, the fights, the yelling, the way I snapped at the smallest things. It made everyone treat me like I was dangerous, like I couldn't be trusted around anyone.
It was better when I was around my family. I was more under control, more grounded. Until Isabel had to ruin that shit too.
Now I couldn't give less of a fuck what people think about me. This is who I am.
And it's not like I was a complete wild animal. I have ways that help me. Things that anchor me.
None of that therapy and breathing exercise shit though. Fuck that.
My kind of therapy comes in the shape of little, round pills, a good fuck, and fighting until I can't think or feel my body.
But right now every time I shut my eyes, my head just keeps replaying the same shit over and over again until all I wanted to do was take my bike and head over to that bastard's house.
My whole hand was bruised. So was a small part of my face. But I couldn't find it in me to care. I was used to it by now and the feeling felt like second nature.
I'm not sure that words are enough to describe the feeling I felt when I saw Kaiden on top of my sister.
But I know that I wanted to kill him.
I really did.
I wanted to watch the life drain out of his eyes. I wanted to see the color fade away from his face, to hear the last breath choke out of his throat.
I wanted to feel my hands clamp down on his neck, hard enough to break his bones, to crush his windpipes and suffocate the life out him.
I imagined slamming his fucking head against the wooden floor of that bedroom over and over until the cracks spiderwebbed across his skull, until his screams turned to whimpers, until there was nothing left but silence.
I wanted to tear his flesh and muscle apart, piece by piece, and make him feel every ounce of fear and pain he'd put on Giulia. Even more.
