They told me I was human. Told me I was weak, and pitiful, and just a bitch filled with rage. They lied. Those fucking bastards lied. I'm the sin they locked away. A sin they were all scared of. A sin that will bring ruin to this world.
But let's start from the beginning, shall we?
Hi, I'm Aurora.
"Hey, red hair! A beer over here!"
And I was a waitress in a really shitty bar, living in a really shitty town.
"Coming!" I shouted back, carrying my empty tray to go refill it. I filled it with as many cups of beer as I could carry and took it back to the bar, careful not to let a drop spill.
I'm twenty-three, with no family or friends. I've moved to different towns over and over again.
"Here you go," I said as I dropped the beer on the table.
I've never really had a home. Never tried to settle. I just… I've never found a place that just fits me, you know? Never found a place where I belonged.
"Thanks, beauty," the man said, giving me a smile that I was all too familiar with.
Men I've met say that could handle me. Said they could love me, but the longest one lasted two weeks.
"What'd you say we go to the back, eh?" the man said, the glint in his eyes growing. "Have a little fun, ya know what I mean?"
This was how it always started. And it never, never ends well. But I tried anyway.
I managed a smile, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, sir. I have to work."
"Come on. I'll pay you more than this work pays you."
Men. They never listen, do they?
But still, my professional smile didn't waver. "Again, sir, I'm at work."
I turned to leave, already eager to get away. But again, men. They never listen. Could never get a damn hint.
"Come on, now," the fucking-pig-who-is-about-to-die says as he grabs my ass. Not even a little touch. But he grabbed it like he had a right to it.
And that was how I snapped. My tray was still filled with beer, but that didn't stop me. I turned to the pig, beer falling from my tray as I grabbed the handle and slammed it into his head.
Imagine this in slow motion; the pig still smiling, and me turning, beer falling and the glasses smashing on the floor, slashing liquid everywhere as I grabbed the handle, my jaw clenched as I hit the pig. It connected with his jaw, his head whipped to the side and spit, mixed with blood flew out of his mouth.
Oh, wait. Was that a fucking tooth? Aw, man, Aurora, you'd gone and done it this time. But even seeing that I broke the bastard's teeth did nothing to quench that rage he'd already ignited.
The smile was finally wiped from his face. First shock, then came anger. "You fucking bitch!" he screamed as he shot up, kicking me in the shin. I groaned but I didn't go down.
When you've spent most of your life in the streets, not having a home, moving from one place to another, you learned how to survive. And when you had a living rage that burned in you? You not only learned to survive, but also how to live.
The pig threw a punch, but I caught it, twisting his arm and he screamed like the fucking bitch he just screamed at my face.
"Who's the bitch now, big guy?" I snarled as I punched him in the gut.
The people in the bar cheered, hitting their cups on the table and urging me on.
Don't look so shocked. I live in a shitty town, remember? These losers come here every night to drown in alcohol and get a little bit of action in their otherwise dry lives. They didn't care if a girl was going against a man two times her size. They just loved the drama.
The pig, seeing he was losing to a girl, got enraged, shouting as he charged towards me, grabbing my middle and running until I slammed against the wall. I groaned, driving my elbow into his spine. So hard, I heard a crack. His spine or my elbow? Don't know. Don't care.
The pig screamed in pain, releasing me, and I seized the opportunity, brushing him off his feet and climbing on top of him, locking him in place with my legs.
And that was when the blows began.
One. Two. Three. He began bleeding. Four. Five. Six. My knuckles split open. Seven. Eight. Nine. The crowd was cheering so loudly that the small, fragile building shook. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. His eyes were swollen shut. He began coughing up blood. And he stopped struggling. Thirteen. Fourteen–
"Aurora!" Hands grabbed me, dragging me away from the pig, but I struggled against them even though the pig had stopped moving, my vision red with rage.
"Let go of me!" I screamed. "Let go!"
And this was why I tried to stay calm at all times. This was why I avoided people like they had a disease. My rage. It was a living, breathing thing in me. Once it showed its ugly head, there was no going back, no stopping.
It consumes me. Fills me, and turns me into a totally different person. My entire body shakes and grows hot, and I see nothing but red. And all I could hear over and over again, like a broken record was, "Kill. Kill. Kill."
And I wanted to kill that pig. Wanted to watch the life drain from his eyes.
I gasped as cold water was poured on me, cooling my body and bringing me back to my senses. I slowly blinked until my surroundings came into view, looking around. I was outside, sitting on the ground while my boss and coworkers hovered over me, looking at me with fear in their eyes.
And this was the reason I always moved. This was why I changed towns like I was changing clothes. Because of those looks in their eyes. The way their hands shook and they stared at me like I was a monster.
Want to know a fun fact? I was.
"Get out," Caleb, my boss, said, his voice shaking. "Leave, Aurora. And I don't ever want to see your face here again."
Always the same look. Always the same words. It was never different.
I stood up, not bothering to clean the dirt off me as I turned, my body shaking from the aftermath of my anger.
This was more than anger, actually.