Sorry to everyone, this chap is very short! Ill make up for it, I swear! But right now, Im in a rush... so please, tell me what you think. Yours truely. Nytlover!
Chapter two
I pressed down on the accelerator, willing the sadness and grief into the back of my mind, and replacing it with anger. How dare he? After the call I made to him, how could he betray my trust so easily? I guess this was how you learn not to put so much trust into someone so quickly.
Not only that, but I broke a promise I intended to keep. That'd teach me not to make a promise on the behalf of another. My god, things were so horrible now. I grumbled ridiculous profanities under my breath.
With a thump and groan coming from the back seat, I slowed down until my car reached eighty kilometres per hour. Righteo, I still had this tiny problem with Mister- bleeding- to- death in my back seat. I didn't have much choice in what to do, so I turned into an intersection before my own, and drove around a Mac Donalds before high tailing down a street and into a driveway of a blue house.
"Annie!" I screamed as I through open the back door. Annie, as wide-eyed as ever, bolted out of the house. My voice must have told her that something was wrong. It's unusual for my voice to be so loud, because I was never one for talking, and when I did talk, it was usually quiet and peaceful. However, this wasn't either of those. This was pure panic.
Mister-half-to-dead was literally half to dead. He was hyperventilating, curling in on himself. I sobbed, dropping against the tire of my car, hugging my knees to my chest. He was going to die, and there was nothing I could do about it. Annie was suddenly beside me, peering into the car before she was at the door, calling for help.
Her arms were wrapped around me when two giant guys came out. With all that muscle, I wouldn't be surprised if they were able to snap Mister- almost-dead in half. I recognised Jonathon, Annies older brother, as he stood in front of me.
"Don't worry Iza, We'll look after him." He reassured as he wrapped one huge hand under Mister-darkened-prince's arm. Now, what the hell did Darkened prince mean?
"Come on Iza, we'll get you cleaned up." Annie pulled me up, and I gaped at her strength. Annie never struck me as abnormal, but hell, that wasn't human. "Then we can sit down and watch a movie until the boys are finished okay? And then you can go and sit with the hunk you brought here."
I shook my head. "Can I use your punching bag? I need to release some... stuff from my system."
She nodded, watching me carefully, as if I were going to break if I so much as tripped. When she took me to her recreation room, I let her fiddle with her pool table before I went to her punching bag. Annie lived with her brother, for her parents are long since gone. They turned the basement into a recreation room, for both girl and guys. It was like a gym slash arcade.
Testing the hardness of the punching bag, I found it to be like cement. I knew it would hurt eventually, but it was perfect. After the first punch, the next would follow, and so on. My knuckles ached in protest, but I pushed it away with anger and sadness. My hands started to burn, my fingers tingling. My breathing accelerated and eventually all the horrible words I wanted to scream broke free. With each punch, an insult to this day came. I tried to punch the bag again, but something stopped me. It took me a second to realise what it was.
My hand had gone through the bag, almost to my elbow. I squeezed my free hands fingers onto the pretty exterior and pushed as I pulled my fist out. The bag was cement through and through. My stance was that of a fighter. The hand I set free was behind me, looking like it was ready to punch deep into the bag again, while the other gripped onto the bag. The only difference was that I wasn't looking at the bag, I was looking at my slightly grazed knuckles. If you punched hard enough, especially onto a cement bag, little lone right through it, wasn't your hand supposed to break? I was barely bleeding, and there was a gaping whole in a cement bag, in which I made. I hadn't even used fire, but it was like I forced strength into my hand unconsciously and powered it like I would with fire.
Only then did I notice the gaping, shocked faces that had been watching me, before the true event of what had happened settled in. I had punched into a cement bag, and I had three witnesses.
"Holy crap."