when i was little, i'd get irrationally angry at everyone around me. i had nowhere to vent that anger. so i'd lock peabody in my room, and hit and kick him in the ribs until i felt better.
i can still see how he'd cower in a corner, trying to get away.
eventually i'd stop, stop seeing only my anger and start seeing the hurt i'd caused. i'd drop to the floor and pull him into my arms, crying and hating myself for what i'd just done.
i stopped doing it when i got older. but i still get filled with that anger, that irrational vengefulness that has no direction. i'm afraid of what i might do someday.