(LANA)
I had developed a peculiar routine.
I enjoyed the feeling of being in danger.
It all started the day that I was thrown into that room by this thug who threatened to make my life a living hell. Have I not already been through the pits of hell?
Did he have any idea what I had to go through to get here?
I have spent my entire life being miserable, therefore I was not afraid of the prospect of being threatened with the same shittiness I had already experienced. I didn't give a damn, so he could go ahead and do whatever he wanted to do.
Yes!
Bring it on!
What a piece of work!
I ignored the fact that he was glaring angrily at me while I gave him the evil eye and pretended as though he was wearing a putrid sack.
What kind of rage have I not witnessed?
Why should I be afraid of his rage? what exactly could he possibly do?
What he thought didn't matter to me.
