The hidden secret within me forever lurks. Rage soars, then it shows. My only choice is to use it as a tool. Twice now, it has hurt those I love. But, it does have a semi-consciousness to it. While it is strong and sure minded, it also holds back. It's like an inner battle, while the real one is happening. My mind says use power, take him out. My body says, "Use something weaker, you don't really want to kill him."
So, while fighting him, my mind constantly shuffles through random attacks and actions, choosing the weakest one. Yet, even as weak as it is, it still proves strong enough to draw blood. I see it now, his blood on my hands. I grow afraid of myself, for such weakness to cause bloodshed isn't natural. Snapping the way I do isn't natural, either. The feeling I get, the one that surges through my body, is hard to resist. It keeps telling me to act, and it is impossible to control. The defense mechanism, I can feel the chemical reactions in my blood, and I have no control over them.
Instinct. Bloodlust. Exhilaration. My own strength is unreal. The things I can do, the things I feel...they are too ethereal, too other dimensional, and I can use it like a tool. My parents grow afraid of me, I can feel it. My friends don't need to know...no one does. But my defenses are powerful. Too powerful......So I'll try to understand them better.