I've always been angry for as long as I could remember. Every little thing pisses me off, I always feel the fire burning inside and I sometimes like to make people feel the heat or even feel like burning the world. I know it sounds like something a maniac would think of but I don't think I'm far from that to be honest. Why I feel that way I don't really know, perhaps it happened since my childhood days when my parents had nasty fights and all I could do was watch silently and sometimes cry, maybe it's because i couldn't and didn't do anything about it, maybe it's because I felt helpless and all i could do was bundle up my feelings. Also, maybe it's because I was being bullied at school. Eventually, those feelings and my helplessness slowly turned into rage . Sometimes when I react or do something to my siblings, my parents would ask.... Cassie,why are you doing this or Cassie,why are you like this?? They probably thought it was just a phase or maybe hormones or teenage rebellion, they never bothered to pay attention to me, sit me down and talk to me calmly. Well, they have lesser fights now but the rage that has been formed in me refused to leave, the fire that has been burning refused to quench so I had no other option than to work with it and try to rid myself of this feeling. The only time I felt at peace is when I'm alone, when I can't hear anything apart from my thoughts but you can't be totally alone in my home even if you want to be, hence the rage.
When I woke up this morning feeling nothing less than I normally feel, I wasn't that surprised. The only difference was that I was going through different waves of emotions, rage topping it of course. I got out of bed to do my chores, trying to suppress this feeling that's slowly making me mad but everything happening around me kept fueling my anger.
My mom wouldn't stop complaining about my lackadaisical attitude towards the upkeep of the house because she never seemed to notice the effort I put into cleaning the house, my dad wouldn't stop shouting and supporting my mum of course, just to show that he's still in charge, my siblings wouldn't stop bothering and making life a living hell for me.
While I was in the kitchen washing the dishes, I heard my name being called.
Cassie!!!.... it was my mom, she shouted my name as she descended down the stairs, she wanted to know if i was doing anything or just lying around doing nothing. I didn't answer her because I knew she was going to come into the kitchen but then I realized that I've given her more reasons to shout, she came in and started asking why I didn't answer her, why I wasn't done with what I was doing, telling me I'm good for nothing and a snail can work faster than I do. I tried to shut her voice out by focusing on the drops of water slowly coming out of the kitchen tap but it wasn't working, I shut my eyes and ears and started talking to myself maybe it will help but her voice kept burrowing through my head. She thought I was being rude and I was talking back at her not knowing I was trying to suppress my anger.
Still on this, I received a slap at the back of my neck which made me flare up, I took a kitchen knife and attempted stabbing her but my dad who heard what was going on had rushed into the kitchen and slapped the knife out of my hand and I received another slap across the face which brought me back to my senses. I glanced at the knife on the floor and turned my gaze to my mom, she was looking at me with horror and disbelief, like she couldn't believe I wanted to harm her. I also couldn't believe that my rage made me do something like that, I broke down and started crying, I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to run away, away from them, away from people, I now considered myself a threat to everyone around me.
When they saw the way I reacted, they knew something was wrong and they asked me. I didn't want to blame them because I felt like it wasn't entirely their fault, I could have just looked away when the fights were happening but I couldn't do that so I explained everything, they were shocked to hear what I've been keeping within me for years.
"Oh Cassie", my dad said. We didn't know our actions were hurting you. I just kept crying, they gave me a warm hug and somehow it made me feel better, maybe that was all I needed not the criticism and stuff. They promised to work better on themselves and also help me with my feelings. I went back to my room and cried so much more but now the tears were not that of pain or regret,I cried because they finally knew what they did wrong and paid attention to me. When I finally came out of my room in the evening,my mom didn't shout at me instead she drew me closer and at that point nothing else mattered.
In the days that followed, everything became normal . The only difference is that I was made to attend therapy sessions, it was hard for me to open up at first and it took time for me to finally talk but I got used to it and it kind of helped me. I just couldn't afford to allow that kind of scenario to happen again, I'm scared of what I'm capable of doing and that pushes me to become better.
I was doing great both at home and in school, I barely got angry anymore even if I wanted to, I always remember the incident that took place at home and I'll just shrug whatever was making me angry.
On this particular day, I went to school feeling happy but for some reason I don't know. As I got to the school premises, a boy that was constantly bullying me came to meet me again. " Gassy Cassie, it's been a while", he said. The reason he started calling me that ridiculous name I could never point out but as usual I was going to ignore him and make peace with myself but he kept calling me names, insulting my parents, dragging my backpack and spilling the contents on the floor.
At this point, the whole school was already gathering to see what was going on, i bent down to pack my things but just then i received a kick to the side of my belly from him. I've had enough, the pain activated something in me, something that i thought was long gone, something i thought i had conquered. I charged towards him, he was still laughing not until I pin him down and started scratching him all over with my long fingernails, I even slapped him across the face, I was going to make sure i saw blood before I stopped but the security guards had made their way into our midst and yanked me away from him. I watched as he laid on the floor sustaining injuries on his face and arms, I watched as other students looked at me with horror....the same way my mother did.
Cassie!!!!.... my mother called my name as I sat in Principal Hawkins office.
I was lost in thought that I didn't hear she had called my name twice. I waited outside the office for them to talk and when she came out, she took me by the hand and led me outside to the car. I didn't know what she and principal Hawkins were saying, all I heard was my mother shouting.
When we got into the car, she didn't say anything to me as we drove home. At home, she told me all that went down, I was being expelled and I was lucky the boy's parents didn't press charges against me. My mom drew me closer to hug me with tears running down her eyes, this was when I realized that she didn't want to talk to me because she was trying so hard not to cry.
My world shattered, I never knew the domino effect of living in a broken home would have such severe consequences and I could swear I was doing so well. I wished I didn't go to school that day, I wished I hadn't allowed my rage overcome me again. I became broken .
