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Excerpt from a book I'll never write



The hot boiling blood curdled up to her head. Like the lava churning, swirling and seething under the thick layer of molten rock, every vein constricting, skin crawling and anger pulling out and pushing together; a myriad of reactions erupting through the surface. She felt like everybody around her was scheming to get the backlash out from her; like she was being tested by the forces of the diabolic. She tried her best not to let it reek out, but she failed every single time. The eruption was inevitable. She let it go. Spectacularly. The shield was let off. Pressure was given vent to. Runny lava choked through every state of her unassuming self. She could feel the air around her rise, forces strangulating and renouncing every living cell in her body. Last, she let the cinder flying out, ash and debris followed suit. It was a mess all around her. Everything changed, and so did she. She could finally see the stars of the southern horizon. They let her breathe again.  

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