In high school, I almost killed someone. He slammed a dictionary down on the back of my head, and my skull was cracked and I had a concussion. I don't remember much after getting hit, except that everything went.. red. When I came to myself, he was on the floor and both of my hands were tightly locked around his throat. It took three teaches to pull me off of him, I was really strong back then. When you grow up working your arse off on the farm, you usually end up like that.

Fortunately, they blamed it on him attacking me, and me ending up with a concussion, so I didn't get in trouble. The one thing that scared me was the fact that I didn't feel bad about nearly choking the life out of him. All I felt was sheer rage that he hit me like that.