Anger Management

Chapter 1

I wasn't always this way. At one point I was actually what could be considered normal. I had a normal family, normal friends, and a normal girlfriend. But that all changed in the space of a few days. 

I remember The first day tHat sent me on my path to hell like It was juSt yesterday. I'd croSsed off the dAte on the caLendar and packed my bag for coLlege, happy in The knowledge that I'd be able to see the love of my life again. I hadn't seen heR for a few days, and I'd practically gone insane withoUt hEr. That seems over-dramatic, but it's part of my nature. Much like having an unnatural level of control over my anger. I guess on reflection, my nature isn't the best thing to have. But then, that's one of the many side-effects of being partially autistic. That's right. I have Dyspraxia, Google it if you're not sure. 

Anyway, I'd called her the night before to arrange a meeting. I'd practically skipped to college the next day, my heart feeling twice its natural size in my chest. I sat on that bench, taking out my excess energy by having a good fidget. When I saw her making her way over to me, it was all I could do not to sprint over to her. When she got closer I could tell something wasn't quite right. Her steps were robotic, lacking the excitement she normally shows when we meet up. Her eyes showed traces of sadness and something else... Reluctance? She sat down beside me and I gave her a reassuring smile. I received a half-hearted attempt at one in response. This didn't add up. Siobhan O'Connor, the girl who just a few short days ago told me she was as madly in love with me as I was with her, was acting like there were a million other places she'd rather be. I didn't have long to think about why she could acting this way though, as she'd put her hands on top of mine, like she always did whenever she wanted to talk to me. 

"Adrian." She closed her eyes, and let out a long sigh. "Listen, these last two months have been amazing, but..." she paused as she tried to think of the best way to say it. "... I think we should split up." I started to make a protest, but she put a finger to my lips softly. "I know you don't think it, but this is rapidly going downhill. It's better that it stops now, rather than in a few months where I hardly feel anything for you and you're still neck deep in love with me. I know this'll hurt you, and I'll never be able to forgive myself for that, but it'd hurt a lot more in a few months, trust me." Her voice lowered, and I could see the tears starting to form in the deep blue eyes that I'd previously been unable to look away from, but now I avoided like I was looking into my own death. "I'm really sorry. I just hope that one day we can go back to being friends..." I couldn't respond. My throat was too dry, and I didn't trust myself enough not to break down in front of her. But I at least had to try. 

"Please..." was all I could manage. She shook her head slowly. 

"I can't. I don't want to end up hurting you beyond repair." I'd tried to keep her sitting in the vain hope that I could talk her out of it, but she stood up. "I don't want to have to walk away from you." She hugged me briefly, and I had to make sure the tears building up inside my eyes didn't spill onto her shoulders. She pulled away and turned back towards college. I sat alone on that bench, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. Siobhan couldn't have left me. This was just some sick illusion, conjured up by my pessimistic subconscious. Because I couldn't have lost her. I just couldn't.  

I thought back to how my heart felt just a few short hours ago. It was like someone had stuck a hose inside my chest and pumped in a large volume of gas. But now I realised, the gas was highly flammable. And Siobhan had just lit a match. Now, where I had earlier felt nobody could damage me felt like it was thrown into an open flame. My heart burned inside my chest, every so often sending a jolt of agony through my body. As soon as I got home I exiled myself to my bedroom with barely a word of greeting to my mother. I collapsed onto my bed, where I wished I could stay forever without waking.  

Sadly though, I was woken up a couple of hours later. And that's where the second part of my decline begins. I don't know exactly what time it was, but my dad was still in work. I followed the sound of my mum's voice blindly, my mind feeling too numb to wonder what had happened. I shuffled into the living room, where my mum sat at the computer. She turned to me, and her voice was hesitant. 

"You might want to sit down." I did. "Adrian, I was sorting through the cupboards in my bedroom and I found your dad's old mobile. Out of curiosity I switched it on, and he received a few texts. I had a look and, well, suffice it to say I'm not happy with him." It turned out she had good reason. For the last six months he'd been texting some woman behind our backs. And it wasn't just casual chit-chat either. We later discovered he'd been meeting up with her too. There was picture evidence. And some of it was enough to make me feel physically sick. An unknown force poured a tank of petrol onto the fire burning inside my chest. Anger seared through my veins, combining with the pain in my heart to pin me to my bed in agony. First I lose the only girl who ever has and probably ever will mean this much to me, and now I find out that my dad, one of the few people in this world I have any respect for, has been lying to us. I distinctly remember feeling that if just one more thing happened, I'd probably just snap totally...