Chapter two: That voice.

I walked to my bedroom, tightly holding the towel to my hand. I fell down on my bed, outstretching my right hand so I would not get blood on the bed covers. I lay there letting my hand bleed freely. I didn't care about that. I was more concerned about the strange feeling that suddenly bubbled up inside of me. How I lost all self-control letting my rage take control of my body. That wasn't like me at all to act out with anger. But at that moment all I felt was anger and hate. Those suddenly strong emotions scared the shit out of me.

Maybe what they say is true, that computers do bring out the worst in people. I shook my head. No, that couldn't be it; I have never heard of someone punching a hole threw their screen. The feeling that rose in me felt dark and out of place, yet at the same time felt like it belonged. I rolled over and looked at my hand and the now very stained towel.

Anna was going to kill me, not only had I just stained one of her good towels but also totally destroyed an expensive screen. I closed my eyes, waiting for her to come home. Waiting for my death.

My eyes shot open when I hear the front door slid open. I could hear Anna's footsteps cross the floor. They were quick at first then suddenly I heard her stop. My stomach started to twist, thinking of the image of her standing over the mess I had left below. It felt like an eternity listening to her walk up the stairs and to the door of my room. It slid open quickly. She flicked on the light, causing my head to hurt once again.

"Please turn that off, I'm not feeling well." I said, managing to find my voice.

She did what I had asked, but I could feel her eyes on my back and it sent shivers down my body.

"What happened downstairs?" she asked, her voice oddly calm.

What was I going to say? Oh nothing Anna, I just got really pissed off and punched the computer. And by the way I got blood all over your new and very expensive towels. The thought of saying that made me laugh a little. But I had no time to wallow in my thoughts, I had to come up with and answer fast.

"I dropped the screen," It sounded like a complete lie even to me.

"And the blood?" she questioned.

"I...er...dropped it on my hand, it cut me a little," I lied again.

I waited for her to pull me up off the bed and bitch slap me, but all she did was close the door and walk back downstairs. Could she have really believed that cock and bull story that came out of my mouth? I doubted it but at the moment I was still safe.

I debated walking downstairs and facing her for about an hour, until I realized that fighting with oneself is very stupid and I would have to face her eventually, so I might as well get it over with. When I got downstairs the mess had been cleaned up, I felt guilty. I should have been the one to clean all of that up.

"Let me see your hand," a voice spoke from the kitchen.

Somehow I managed to make my feet move towards there own doom. I peeked around the corner; Anna was sitting at the table, casually drinking a cup of tea.

I sat down across from her and hesitantly stretched out my arm, completely forgetting that I had one of her new towels wrapped around my hand.

"I trust you will be buying me a new set of those," she said quickly glancing down at the blood stained towel.

I nodded in reply.

She pulled the towel off and seemed a little shocked at the severity of my cuts. Beside her she had the fist aid kit. I watched as she pulled out a pair of tweezers. I couldn't figure out what on earth she was going to do with those until pain once again filled my hand as she dug around in the cuts pulling out little shards of glass. I pulled my hand away in utter shock at what she was doing to me. But before I could get away she pulled my hand back down on the table forcefully causing me to wince in pain.

Again she started probing around for glass. All I could do was rest my forehead down on the table banging my head down every once in a while to keep from yelling.

That night I had trouble sleeping. My head was filled with questions, when I did manage to fall asleep it was plagued with strange dreams.

I was standing in a dark room, so dark that when I waved my hand in front of my face I could see nothing. The air was humid and thick making it hard to breath.

You felt it didn't you? A voice spoke out of the shadows.

"Felt what?" I asked looking around me, but only being met with more darkness.

Don't play stupid with me; you know damn well what I'm talking about.

'The rage' I thought in my head.

Very good. Gee and I thought you were stupid. The voice taunted me.

"What do you want!" I yelled out.

It's not what I want, it more of a question of what you want. What I can give you.

"I don't want anything from you," I spat out.

Oh but you have it whether you want it or not, it's already inside of you. It has been for a few years now. Silently waiting to manifest and express itself. Like a viper hidden under a rock. But you have only felt the beginning, what happened today was only a spark compared to the real fire you have smouldering inside your soul.

"You don't know my soul."

The voice laughed loudly, I'm the only one that truly knows your soul.

I just glared at the darkness trying to find where the voice was coming from.

I know you are having trouble dealing with this new power inside of you. But it will only get worse as time goes on. Soon you will be overwhelmed. Unless you allow me to help you.

I shot up out of bed, breathing heavily. I ran my hand over my forehead that was covered in sweat. I looked around my room, expecting to see a figure standing in the doorway, but no one was there.

"It was only a dream, it meant nothing," I felt I had to say my words out loud to truly convince myself, but even then I had my doubts