Identity [ON HIATUS]

25. All This Rage

I cannot stop.

I will not stop.

Not stop punching and smacking until this boy is nothing but bones and blood.

Liam Litnicky; the boy with the dorky glasses and soft hair and a nose that I will push inside of his face. People will laugh at him in the halls; people will scowl and spit on him. And if they didn't, it was because they took no notice of him. A speck, a piece of dust. A nothing boy.

I straddle him, his body to limp to resist, as I wrap my hands around his throat and squeeze. The noises, the sounds, the voices in my head are shouting for me to stop. I know they're not mine, I know this isn't even my mind, but the screaming won't stop, the resistance crawling inside my hands like they're kitchen gloves.

But stopping means losing, and I don't lose.

You're hurting him, says Daisy.

Good, I say. I want him to hurt for the rest of his life.

He's drunk!

Nothing but a fucking excuse.

She's in the corner of the room, her blonde hair matted to her face and her pupils dilated from vodka and God knows what else. I chance a glance at her, trapped in a wicker chair where I'll keep her until I'm done with Liam fuckboy Litnicky.

All these emotions, all this rage.

Liam's going blue, his lips darkening. I might just kill him. I might just do it.

But suddenly, my fingers are prized off, and I'm dragged off of him by my arms. I kick him a few times before I'm out of his reach, sprawled on the floor and trying to be pulled upwards.

I see him on the bed, roll over and cough and splutter and heave and gasp for air, colour returning to his cheeks. Arms wrap around me, bringing me to a body and holding me there, trying to steady my – Daisy's – restless body. Arms strong but still shaky.

Charlie Merchant.

"Rose, stop!" He keeps shouting as I try and lunge for Liam, whose blood streaked face is not bloody enough. He cowers down beside the bed, trying to hide from my line of sight. But he will never.

"He hurt Daisy! He was going to fucking hurt my sister you piece of shit!" I ramble, trying to let Charlie see, see that we can't let him get away with it.

"That's enough! You've done enough!" He struggles to keep a hold of me, trying to calm me down and tear my eyes away from Liam. Liam's eyes aren't only on me anymore, but on tall, lean and older Charlie too; tattooed and smelling of smoke and gasoline. "We need to leave before anyone calls the cops. Please, come with me." He steadies me, his hands on my shoulders, making me stare at him.

I nod reluctantly and swallow. Daisy's beside me too, and I feel her hands intertwine with mine.

She's panting heavily, her knuckles bloody.