The shattered glass and broken furniture scattered everywhere gave the impression that a tornado had passed through, but it was something much worse.

It was me.

My mother had always said I was dangerous. Unpredictable and uncontrollable.

She said I was a ticking time bomb. I guess she was right.

Bodies line the ground. Blood pools on the wooden floor.

My hands shake and tears run down my cheeks. Splattered blood lines my face. I wipe my face with my arm and it dyes my hand red.

Never in all my life would I ever expect myself to do something this bad.

I run from the room and shove the front doors open to the dark night. The coldness of nighttime bites at my nose and cheeks. I’m only wearing a tank top and jeans.

I turn my head to the left and strain my ears. Police sirens sound in the distance. They get closer and closer until I can see a glimpse of the flashing red and blue lights.

My tennis shoes make a subtle slapping sound hitting the ground as I turn to run down a dark alley.

As I get to the end of the alley my feet slow and I bend over, breathing heavy. I’m winded.

“Hey!” I hear from the other end of the alley. A police officer stands at the edge of the alleyway. Their hand on the waist belt. Wear their gun is.

I stand fully up and force myself to run again.

“Hey!” They say again. “Stop!”

They began to run in my direction pulling their gun out of their belt.

I take a left down another alley. Behind me, I hear more than just one set of footsteps.

Loud bangs go off from behind me. I keep running until I feel something hit me from the back and I fall forward. My body hits the ground and my face rests against the cold cement, unable to move.

As my blood spills out one last thought enters my head about what I did.

Whenever I get angry I snap. But this time I did more.

I exploded.