"You're going to that class and that's final"
Parents are the spawn of the devil.
"I don't want nor need to go!"
"I am not having another outburst from you! Last time was one too many."
I should probably explain. My mother and everyone else around me seem to think I have a little bit of a temper, so now she's sending me to kickboxing classes so that I can "control my outbursts" A little bit of anger never hurt anybody..okay scratch that, but there's nothing wrong with showing your emotions!
"But-"
"You're going!" she quite rudely cut me off. "I've already called the man, your first class is tomorrow. I'm bringing you myself."
"I can brin-"
"I'm bringing you" she cut me off again, and she wonders why I get angry!
"Fine!" I shouted and stormed off up the stairs to my bedroom. "Fucking parents" I muttered under my breath before I slammed the door. Hard.
I spotted a glass on my dresser and threw it against the wall, watching it smash into a million pieces was oddly calming.
But not calming enough.
The rage was burning inside me. I felt like I was going to explode if i didn't realease it somehow.
I turned to face the nearest wall and my fist smashed into it without my consent. The pain shot up my arm and soothed me enough for the anger to wear off.
I walked into the bathroom connected to my bedroom and went over to the sink, running my throbbing hand under the cold water.
I sighed annoyed with myself. I needed to stop doing this.
Maybe this kickboxing wouldn't be so bad after all.
YOU ARE READING
Possesive
RomanceA romance between a possesive professional kickboxer and a girl with a big heart but a bad temper