I didn’t let him say anything else. I didn’t wait for anyone to react. I just turned on my heels and stormed off. I couldn’t look at him — or any of them — for a second longer. If I stayed, I’d lose whatever shred of control I had left. I turned on my heels and almost ran towards my room. I could already hear them yelling in their language behind me, but I didn’t care. I had to get out of there.
By the time I reached my room, my hands were shaking. I slammed the door shut and dropped to my knees. One part of me wanted to scream until my throat went raw. The other part just wanted to curl into a ball and cry until I disappeared.
But I didn’t do either.
Instead, I let the frustration fester. Let it harden into something colder and sharper. Hate. And since I couldn’t destroy them physical
