Anger is a killing thing: it kills the man who angers, for each rage leaves him less than he had been before - it takes something from him. ~Louis L'Amour
Senna Thorne awoke to a force pressing on her chest in a steady beat. One, two, three. A deep voice was becoming clearer above her, yelling, “She’s opening her eyes!” With a deep breath, her lungs gasped at the sudden air that filled them. Her heart fluttered a bit as she regained consciousness. A lifeguard was at her side, with an iPhone in hand. She heard the young man asking for a phone number, someone he could call to pick her up. Senna tried to remember what happened before she was laying on slippery tiles that smelled like chlorine, but it hurt her heart to try. She just stood up as if the water that she had an unmistakable passion for did not try to end her life. The lifeguard was screaming after her, but Senna could not speak, instead she casually walked to the bleachers, arranged her stuff, put on her matching blue swim team sweat pants and jacket, then walked right out the door.
Even though the air was thick and tasted like winter, Senna felt absolutely nothing. Her breath did not mimic the appearance of smoke in the cold. Instead, her body was filled with warmth, as if she were a living fireplace. It was calming, but at the same time, made her feel weaker. Suddenly, an imperfection in the sidewalk caused her to slide on a piece of ice and fall onto her back. The ache she felt was worse than the pain she had experienced in the pool, for this was physically draining. While Senna attempted to stand once more, the wind whipped around her tauntingly. It whispered things that made her head want to explode. “Give up. “ It whispered in high-pitched, mocking voices. “You are not good enough!” Tears fell down her face as the wind’s laughter increased in volume, its voices seemed more real, more fierce. It was as if a nightmare had become reality. Senna’s whole body was filled with such anger towards the wind; it was an adrenaline rush fuelled by insanity. She sprung off the ground and screamed as loud as her madness could take her. Her eyes began to twitch, and the ground began to move as if an Earthquake was about to erupt. It hurt every ounce of her being, but the winds were getting louder in their shrieks, and the snow began to melt into the watery snakes that hissed. They only added to the utter turmoil. The sidewalk began to shatter like a window. Senna’s fists were clenched as if it could make it less painful, but it was to no degree helpful. The snow fell on her as the indescribable pain made her curl into a tight ball with her arms around her knees, the earth cracked around her, and she began to slip off to a dark place once more.
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What I am currently reading: 1776 by David McCullough
In other news: Today was a good day.
Think about it: "First they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. Then you win."
~Mahatma Gandhi
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What I am currently reading: 1776 by David McCullough
In other news: Today was a good day.
Think about it: "First they ignore you. Then they laugh at you. Then they fight you. Then you win."
~Mahatma Gandhi
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