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Seething Red

Quietly Burning

By KJ AartilaPublished 25 days ago Updated 25 days ago 1 min read
Seething Red
Photo by Anna Popović on Unsplash

I almost killed my brother once. On purpose. Nearly choked him out in a fit of rage.

He deserved it, though – only because I couldn’t choke-out the persons who really deserved it – his loving enablers turning him into the slimy, lying, manipulating bastard he is to this day. Too bad, but good thing, the bus driver was there. It would have been a horrible reality to live with.

Maybe I was in Junior High – no, maybe a freshman in high school. Maybe older. Time weaved with trauma has a way of distorting. It was after he had committed an unspeakable act and put me in a very compromising position, and he mentally hurt a lot of people. Or maybe it was me who hurt a lot of people. His actions brought back repressed memories of my own past trauma that I needed to understand and deal with.

He was taunting me from the green seats of the school bus. I swooped in and clamped my hands around his throat, laying him out on the bench seat in a flash of red I don’t even remember.

This is what happens when an already damaged girl is coerced to hold in a scream.

Prosefact or fictionCONTENT WARNING

About the Creator

KJ Aartila

A writer of words in northern WI with a small family and a large menagerie.

My Substack

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