44 - Blinded

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Atlas.

I have never felt so low in my life.

Great start, I know.

I am currently standing in the shower for, I don't know, two hours just thinking. Straight after training I was in need of a clean mind, but my mind alone is terrifying. We might be together in this fight, but nothing is as strong as a poisoned human mind.

My eyes are glued to the tiles on the wall. The room is filled with steam, forcing its way into my lungs, but I don't care.

The only thing I can seem to recognize is the hot water streaming down my body, healing all the physical wounds, while the mental rage inside my head.

I watch the steam condense and the droplets stick to its surroundings. My hands are both placed on the wall above my head, giving the water full access to my back.

Never have I felt so conscious about myself. Not since I was fourteen.

I can't help but wonder if it's my fault. If I never existed, the world would be a little better. A little brighter. A little happier.

Although I already know the answer, I can't seem to accept it.

There must be someone who benefits from my presence? Right?

Antonio has a son, he doesn't need you.

It echoes through my mind, tearing all my defenses down. Breaking every brick of confidence I own.

Without you Tate would have been happy with Nysa, she doesn't want you.

I clench my jaw as my pride gets burned to the ground too.

Dominic has a daughter, he has no time for you.

All my walls melt down, joining the water as it slips down the drain. Fists balled I close my eyes, trying to stop the voices.

Sage is happy without you, she doesn't love you.

I scream. All the raw agony, pain, and feelings find the surface without a barricade blocking them. They finally show, after years of pushing them down, they escaped. Anger rages through me. Anger I can't push back anymore. The fire that can't be suffocated.

I leave the shower with one thing on my mind.

I trained seven years for this, I earned that title.

I dry and dress myself faster than I thought I could. Before I notice I am out the door, storming to my car. My heart is pounding in my chest.

I drive recklessly, I narrowly avoid the cars as I race to the base. I can not seem to calm myself down, all I can think about is how angry I am.

How angry I am at myself.

At Antonio.

At his excuse of a goddamn son.

It is a fucking sixteen-year-old. A pathetic teenager. I am not losing my title to a teenager.

With fists clenched at the thought, I round the corner, entering the woods. I speed up a little as I fury shatters everything positive in my mind. Everything.

My features are painted with rage. The intercom automatic voice scans my face and acknowledges me as it opens the gate. I put no mind in parking the car as I exit. Different members start complaining as I make my way to the doors.

I get my gun from my waste band and shoot into the air, quieting them down immediately. "Next time it's in your head" I say to one of the men. With one last glare I leave them behind and enter the building.

Growing Fires with Old AshesWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu