Rage

The perfect one word definition for Casey Selleck was anger. It was a quiet, almost imperceptible anger, but it was there, churning inside her with the force of a maelstrom. If one really cared to look, one could see that when she became enraged, her eyes would grow wide, her jaw tight, and her upper lip began to twitch. Of course, no one was even remotely close enough to Casey for that, nor did anyone care for it. She had alienated everyone, had no interest in friends, and didn’t even pat her dog. Her parents had worried and cried and tried to reach her, but soon found that all she did was become angry at them, and they retreated. The gap between them had morphed into a solid stone wall, unbreachable, impossible to get to, if either party ever tried. Friends had tried hard, and found her to be like an underwater volcano, easily set off, with great consequences. Then she had no friends left. At first she was mean and cruel when angered, but then she tried hard to mask the effects, and now the storm raged within, but showed no signs outside. She found annoyance in everything, from her teachers, to her fellow classmates, her parents, and the weather. The bane of her existence however, was her P.E. class. First off, she had no one to talk to, even a boy she’d always crushed on. Secondly, she hated sports, and she was no good at them. Thirdly, she hated each and every one of her classmates. There were another four girls in her class, which fell into one of two categories. Number one, Legion, as she called them, because the three girls all seemed to share a brain. They moved in unison, in the same direction, and seemed to share a personality. They all tried very hard to be the same, and they dress, eat, spoke, and laughed alike. They tried hard to not have opinions, and they consulted everything with each other. Casey hated them. She hated the fact that they enjoyed teasing her, that everyone seemed to love them, and their general stupidity. As loathsome as legion was (were?) she hated the fourth girl even more. Casey’s mental label for her is an expletive, so let’s call her B. B was the sort of girl who felt entitled. She felt she was the world’s best athlete, and she wasn’t extraordinarily far off and she felt like the world’s prettiest girl, a matter in which she was far off. Casey especially detested her because she was intolerant of others performing badly at sports, which was what Casey did daily. Not only that, B ranted about the “losers” in her class in the locker room. Loudly. And Casey caught every word. Her ire grew daily, and had anyone cared to notice, they would’ve seen it was dangerous. One day, everything was too much. Casey’s breakfast was burnt, the sky was dark and gloomy, she had math test first period, and then the dreaded P.E. and that day, their teacher, Mr. Burns decided B should help Casey. An excruciating forty five minutes later, Legion bounded over, a nasty smirk on their collective face. Right in front of the boy she’d always loved, we’ll call him X, they asked, loudly, whether Casey thought he was hot. That was the last straw. All the anger in Casey seemed to boil and explode like a volcano. It buzzed in her ears, boiled her blood, robbed her vision. All watched in horror and awe as the rage became so blindingly hot and powerful, that it cause Casey to melt into a bubbling puddle.

First excursion into magical realism…I think. FYI word count: 620.