Anger Managment: Short Story

                                                    ANGER MANAGMENT

                                                    By SAMMYLEE RENE

   





      One hand tigh on the wheel, Joel pushed the button of the radio. In a buzzing noise, Radio 1 was on. ' Good morning fervent listeners, hope you're all out enjoying the sun on this strange day of December.' ' This is so weird, it's freaking me out.' Says Anthony, sat in the passenger seat looking out the window. ' Yeah...' Says Joel, as if there was anything else he could say. Joel turned the sound up, as he lowered his window a cigarette sticking out of his mouth he earlier took out.



' Earlier this morning, we got multiple calls from all over England, in particular from East End, saying that animals were going mental. Now, I know that what i'm about to say will look out of subject, but listen out. Yesterday I took my nephew Micky to buy his first pet, so we headed for some store where they sell this kind of stuff, sorry I just can't recall how we actually call it but you get what I mean so i'll keep on going. So I took my nephew to the pet store, and surprisingly, it was closed. I mean, how weird is that right? I checked the night before the opening hours, and it said that they were open on Fridays, so I felt conned kinda. Anyway we look around, and saw a board on the door, saying this: " Due to anger managment from pets from the shop, we are closed until further notice.". I think you get my point now. This canicule drives them crazy apparently, so be aware of your pets guys, they might turn on you.'



Joel inhaled deeply from his cigarette, and exhaled the smoke from his nose. The white gazed substance spread across the car, and spiraled out the window. Anthony waved his hand in Joel's direction, and lowered down his window. ' This thing is going to kill you.' He said eyebrows frowned all the way down to his nosebridge. ' That's what my doctor told me twenty-five years ago.' Joel took another puff. ' Maybe he was right.' Anthony shrugged. ' He died last year, overdose.' Joel just laid out. Anthony shook his head. ' I guess everyone dies around you then.' He said in a hurry. ' You're still here.' Joel fired back. Anthony sighed loud. He laid his elbow against the door and rested his head on his hand. ' Mom's gone, who knows how long i'll last...' He whispered to himself.



Joel looked at him, and took another puff. He closed his window, and Anthony's. He then exhaled in his direction. Anthony yelled angry. He lowered his window back down, and stick his head out for air, coughing. Joel laughed, proud of being such a jerk. ' Pussy.' He said a quirky smile on his face. Anthony sit back, and grabbed Joel's fag out of his mouth. ' Anger managment MY ASS!' He screamed in the car, as he sticked the burning fag on his right arm. Joel's eye dilated instantly, as he yelled of pain. He pushed the brakes in the middle of the road, and violently hit the wheel. Anthony opened the door and ran. ' You little pathetic son of a bitch! I'm going to stick your on a stick your stinking bastard!' Anthony could hear him swearing as he pursued his steps.



Anthony looked around. He realised that he chose the wrong place to rebel. An empty road, woods and grass standing all around. Anthony kept on running, heading for the forest, a few hours before sunset.  He heard the car's door closing, and his father's gun loading. Anthony sped for hideout, just before a first gunshot was released. Standing behind a tree, Anthony breathed fast. He could feel that the pressure was closing down his alveolis. His breathing started to bother him, whistling of its own. Anthony checked his pockets fast. He could feel the shape he was looking for through his trousers pocket. He fished it out, took the lid off, and stick it in his mouth. He pressed the cold metallic container, which released a cold tasteless gaz. He inhaled deep, and waited. He stare in front of him, able to feel his heart beat faster by the second.



A bird was legs on a branch, flapping the air with its wings, but not moving. He then sang in a high tone pitch, a single note. This single note echoed in Anthony's brain cells. The note turned into feasible meaning, which progressivley turned out to be something he could understand. All of it, in only through a single second. The same second a bullet flew for the side of the tree. Anthony got down on his knees, schocked. He looked back up for the bird, but only to realise it was gone. He was shot at a thrid time. Anthony jumped on his feet, and entered the core of the forest. Everything got darker, but somehow safer for Anthony. As he ran along, all he could see was birds, then other mammals, standing well aside, scrupting. Joel wasn't far behind. He still could hear him swear all across the forest.



Heading downhill, Anthony quickly looked behind him. Joel was close. He looked back in front of him, to trip and roll down the hill. He couldn't hold to anything, anyone. The dirt was scraping his skin off, turning white to pink, pink to red, red to white. He had leaves all over his hair, inside his shirt and shorts, and dust in his eyes. Anthony rolled all the way down, lucky not to encounter any concrete obstacles. He lied flat near a muddy area. Light was running down his face, just burning his bruises. His head was faced uphill, Joel armed of a weapon of 91 percent chance of killing him.



  He watched his father walking up to him, and felt the pain when he raged his feet against his head. Anthony coughed blood, eyes wide opened. He cried loudly, in a weird way. He didn't have enough air going through his lungs to be able to cry normally. Not because he felt pressured no, asthma was not the issue. The rock he laid on was. He still could feel it through his spine, as he stopped feeling his legs, his arms. ' I guess, everyone dies around me, son.' Joel says as he presses the gunhole to his skull. Anthony used his last strengh to turn his head. He wanted to see the bird again, and tell him that he was wrong, that he was going to die. He could feel it through his broken bones, ripped opened organs, and this gun stucked to his temple, about to end his suffering. Anthony closed his eyes, and waited to hear the deafening sound of Joel's gun.





Everyday, young boys and girls, man and woman dies because of heartless psychotic society brainedwashed people. Stand up to them, be careful who you walk with, talk with, live with. Do not be afraid of taking responsablities and get out of your misery, be the man you ought to be...