Louie duck hated himself.

Or at least 'hate' was the closest word he could come up with to describe the throbbing in his chest, the churning in his insides, eating him away piece by piece. He felt lazy, selfish, inconsiderate, unworthy of the love and support that his brothers, his family kept giving him. The love and support that would only be repaid by empty hands and salty tears.

He would pretend to be fine and was pretty good at it to a fault. Pretending was easy, much easier than saying the truth. The truth was painful, and only made him feel worse than he already did.

So, he would lie. He would lie to his family and himself, and he would believe it. He was okay, there was nothing wrong. And this method worked... for a little while.

Soon the emotion, the sadness, the pain started to pile up. The sadness was hiding behind a new shield, a shield of anger. Like a volcano, it would erupt in a way powerful enough to be compared to his uncle Donald.

That anger is why he did what he did.

LOUIE:

"GIVE ME THE PIZZA, DEWEY!" I shrieked.

"NO! Not until you eat some real food!" Dewey yelled, shoving the pizza box up to the highest bunkbed.

I had refused to eat anything but "junk food" for months now. It had gotten so bad that even the slightest glance of so called "real food", filled me with pounds nausea. At first, I would eat only once a month, but I lost count of the days (actually, I didn't lose count of the days, I only pretended to because Huey would always remind me, and I would always procrastinate (¬‿¬). But Scrooge and Uncle Donald were worn out by the constant need to buy take-out just because of one person. Now everyone was exasperated.

"Why don't you just eat Louie?! You don't do anything but laze around and sleep. Then you expect us to just feed you without anything in return!'' Dewey stood between the me and the bed.

"Oh, Dewey just stop and admit it! You're doing this for one reason and one reason only, and that's unnecessary attention! Now stop wasting my time and give me the Pizza!"

"This I stupid, what am I doing?" I thought, "this I just a useless waste of time and energy."

I wanted to stop, stop yelling, stop fighting, but I couldn't. This wasn't because of hunger or a simple slice of pizza. This was something that had a different source...

OH NO! It was coming! I could feel it boiling, slowly poisoning everything it touches. I felt myself vibrating uncontrollably as the anger reached its boiling point. It was reaching a new level, one that I never knew even existed. Tears of rage blurred my vision as the anger consumed me, drowning me, and then finally controlling me.

Then I exploded. I threw the desk to its side, a glass plunged to the floor sending shards of glass to spread in every direction.

That was finally enough to keep Dewey quiet. His face grew pale as he sank tohis knees. Too caught up in the moment, he probably didn't notice that I was hurling all our clothes out our closet, striping sheets off their beds and destroying every object in sight like a hungry raging animal. Books and clothes fluttered through the air. The shredded sections of torn pages from medieval history books drifted their way to the cracked wooden floor.

Wallpaper was torn. Muddled bits of glass and water were here and there. Chairs and tables stook awkwardly at their sides as I unconsciously thought it couldn't get worse than this, but of course it did.

Huey stood half-way through the door. Shock, confusion, and an unexpected anger were suddenly written on his face in big bold letters as he sent an angry glare towards me. My muscles grew tense-I was no match for Huey when his temper boiled. His mouth hung open, and his body trembled. Huey hunched forward and at first, I thought he was going to come forward and yell at me, but, to Dewey and I's surprise, Huey's glare fell into a startlingly painful sob.

No no no no no. This can't be happening; he's never been this emotional about a messy room. Okay, fine, it's more than a little messy, but still, Huey doesn't cry like thi...

That's when I saw it.

Hueys Junior Woodchuck Guidebook rested hopelessly on the cold damp floor. Its pages, soggy and torn, lightly swayed from one page to then next in the chilled breeze...

What have I done?

For a split second, I stood there, not knowing what to do except;

Run. I had to run. I couldn't handle this, not right now. So that's what I did, I ran. I charged through the door, accidentally bumping into Huey which just making me scurry away even faster.

Tears rolled down my chin as my steps echoed through the walls, but I didn't want to wipe them off. I didn't want to think about Huey, I didn't want to think about the total mess I had left behind, or the consequences that would spawn from it. All I wanted to do was leave...and that's what I did.

I crashed through the front door, and at that very moment, I had no plans of turning back...

I'm sorry, I'm addicted to suspense! Sorry, this took so long. I can only seem to get my creative juices flowing at night. Anyway, thanks for reading! :3