I smashed the window.
The hammer was an extension of my arms, a vent for my anger.
I dented the hood.
The car was ripping apart, the way I wanted to rip myself apart. Flashes of Sammie crying from last week were haunting me. My mom, my dad, I didn't care so much.
I punctured a tire.
She would be stuck there now. Forever. She would die there. Never be free.
I yelled out in frustration as I kicked the bumper.
Sammie was my biggest regret, something I wish I could've fixed more than anything else.
I stood up,hands on my knees and I was panting. After a few minutes I grabbed my bag and shuffled out of there, leaving the destroyed car. The back window had a sticker on it with a stick family, three kids and a mom and dad. I had ripped it in half in the process of smashing the vehicle.
It seemed I always did that.
