strength and rush at him like an animal, only inspired by the thought of only beginning to give him back the pain that he made me feel - and that in every damn second that he spent with me.Why ?!I keep asking myself, why does he hate me so much?
We roll over the brownish-green ground like scuffling schoolboys, even if it is much more serious and far more dangerous, and with a bizarre feeling of satisfaction I drill my claw-like nails through the fine fabric of his clothing into his sensitive skin and make furrows visible from afar over his flawless back. He growls suppressed, then tears one of my knives from my belt and rams it into my hand as far as it will go, pinning it to the floor. I gasp audibly and have to hold on to myself in order not to throw up in pain when he gleefully turns the knife in my direction with a perfidious grin, as if he were about to open a bottle. Bones burst and I feel my tendons and muscles tear, so I scream in agony and close my eyes to prevent the impotence.Not so, not now ..."Enough," comes an imperious voice to us from the door that seems vaguely familiar to me. A pleasant warmth spreads between my shoulder blades and my eyelids suddenly weigh tons. Somewhere in me a faint memory of a similar situation stirs, but before I can think about it for a second longer, I fall into the unavoidable swoon, accompanied by a faint crackling in my ears.