The Violinist

Anger

I do not return to school for easily a week. My grades slip but I know there is no one to care about them now. I send the week doing nothing, barely eating, and generally allowing letting myself go. When I return, everyone is staring as I expected. I do not see her, thankfully. I do not want to deal with her at the moment. I go to my classes and not only receive all my work but also attempt to pay attention. As my free period came, I walked to my classroom and took my violin out. Yet as I looked at it, I felt no surge of hope. No inspiration to play. Returning the violin to it's case, I sit down and begin watching videos on my phone until I hear a knock on the door. Knowing who it is, I put my other headphone in and attempt to tune her out. She calls me and I let it go to voicemail. She starts kicking the door and finally, I open it. She looks as if she wants to kill me but much to my surprise she hugs me. Not knowing what to do, I let let my arms hang by my sides until she pulls away wiping her eyes. I am slightly taken aback by this and with that she begins yelling. She yells at me for not answering, avoiding her, and making her worry. The entire time she is yelling, I wonder whether or not she actually remembers. As she begins to scream at me for "not paying attention", I finally snap. I ask her one question that shuts her up,
"So did you enjoy that kiss?"
Now it is her turn to look shocked. I finally unleash each and every negative, spiteful thought I have harbored since that day. Demanding that she remember and that she pay for how she wronged me. She starts crying but I do not care. I cried for years over her, wondering whether or not if she cared, if I was just a fling. All of this exploded to the surface along with more in a frenzy of insults and questions. Once done, I stand there panting and breathing hard. It seems she is not the only one who was crying as I wipe my own eyes and face. She will not even look at me, and after a moment or so she leaves. While my outburst may have been cruel and unnecessary, it felt good. Not just to hurt her, but to release all the pain I carried and tortured my self with these last years. I grab my own bags and leave the room with a small feeling of triumph....