For me, back again? (Part 2)

Darkness stole the night from me, and, from a cruel instant of peace, cast me out again; I was a fishing-worm, hooked to dreams, welcoming my fate, and dreamt to dream forever.

I woke to the stench of last nights torture, feeling as though cinders of burnt bread had been forced into my nostrils.

The morning had given the room icy-blue life. I was in sort of a daze, hugged by the warmth of my father’s mattress. Struggling to the side of the bed, I glanced over to where he had cast me the previous night – my father had cleaned where my insides had spilt out. He couldn’t erase it completely, however; a haunting stain would always linger.

On the table beside it, an old and rusting thing, teasing collapse, there was a McDonald's bag. Jumping up, I limped over and fell to my knees beside it and emptied out the contents. A burger and a drink, nothing else. No note, no apology. I wanted to smash them against the wall as the heartless pile of bones had done to me! The fear of it too coming out from me to join the stain over which my eyes now flamed only fed my rage, triumphing my yearning to fill my deflated stomach.

Changing and collecting up my stuff, I set about for school. Unempty; fuelled by something greater than my desire for the night --- to kill that man!