How is this possible? Pt 2

Looking at her made me laugh. I didn't hide it. It started with a giggle, then a deep chuckle then I buried myself into a deep wick laughter.

I knew she felt hurt. I could feel it, I could see it. She stood there embarrassed and waited for me to finish laughing. Then she cleared her throat and spoke.

"Well, now that you're done with your humour. Let's get to work"

She pulls out a file and starts reading from it.

"Well, from the looks of it. You're suffering from an acute condition of-"

I grabbed the file from her and threw it on the floor before she could finish reading it. Then I grab her wrist and throw her outside my dorm.

"Now, listen. Tell my father if he sends you to me one more time. I will kill you"

I banged the door and I jumped on my bed. I hated I had to do that to her but in all honesty. I didn't need that.

So to my father now I'm a mental case who needs supervision. He sends me a fucking psychologist who thinks she can help me.

It makes me laugh because how possible is that? I was simply a failed experiment. A hybrid they couldn't control. That's who I am, not a nut job.

I wanted to let it go. I really wanted to but I just couldn't. How could he think a psychologist would fix me?

It was comical, in all sincerity.

"So I'm the crazy one. So, I'm the crazy one but my father who put me through that isn't"

Then I felt the heat and surge of anger building up in me. I knew this feeling quite well. I had been living with this condition for so long.

I got up from my bed, and picked my hockey stick and skates. The only place I could pour this aggression was definitely on the ice.

***

I had no regard for rules. I didn't give a shit. I just wanted to stop being like the villain every time. I just wanted to get outside my head. Was that too much to ask?

I got into the ring and placed the pucks around and then started hitting them at different points like I always did.

I was used to playing alone. I was used to being alone. I moved so fast I felt a little dizzy but I continued with the way.

Then I noticed another opponent had jumped in the ring, hitting the pucks back at me.

He was just as good if not better. He played with precision unlike me who played with aggression.

The game got so intense we were left with one puck and this was going to mean one thing: A faceoff.

We both knew that whoever secured this one would be the winner. So in that heated moment.

I narrowed down my focus but then my opponent did something. He distracted me. Just then he collected the puck and ran off.

I was pissed. I threw the hockey stick to the corner and went after him.

"Hey, what gives man why would you do that?"

But just when I was about to pounce on him, he took of his helmet then I saw that it was my brother Aaron

"Caleb, I've missed you"

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