It had been a very long day and definately not one of the best. It was 4 p.m., right after school. I was standing by the lockers that came before mine in the row. Anger was boiling up inside me. Anger, stress, panic, fear and worry. Stress from the day, anger at my father, Elaine and Verna, worry for Charlotte and panic, fear and worry for Sierra and her daughter. She'd found out she was having a daughter from one of the ultrasounds. I swung my arm out and punched the locker hard. Once I started I couldn't stop. I kicked the bottom of the locker door. I kicked, hit, swung and punched. Anger was a lot more dignified than crying I had read somewhere. I wasn't one to cry. To spin out of control lose my temper completely lose it go ballistic, yes. But no, not to cry. Never. The thought of me crying is so far on the other end of the spectrum. I don't even think I cried at Cory and Topanga's wedding, or when my dad died. I had mixed feelings about him. I just got very very quiet. No one was able to reach me for a long long time.
I partially blamed myself for what happened to Sierra. I loved her so much she was my sister and I wanted to protect her. She was so pretty and nice. But god what Dad did to her………….I didn't want to turn out like him and I hoped I never would. Even though he was dead I wanted to fight him. And happened to Sierra helped me become a lot more respectful towards women that's for damn sure.
As I was realizing all of this I stopped hitting, swinging, punching and kicking. I just stayed there, in the hall, staring into quiet nothingness until my anger eventually died down.
