My thirst for blood has not been remotely satisfied.
Hunger for violence pumps in my veins, rage chokes me and turns my knuckles white on the steering wheel. They touched my angel. They grabbed her. Every time I remember what I witnessed, wrath screams inside my skull again and the cycle starts anew.
When I walked into the party, I could not find Georgina. Already I’d hit a dead end at the orientation hall and was about to return home in my borrowed car, thinking Georgina must be headed back, until I overhead some young men discussing the party. My skin prickled, and I never deny an instinct. Georgina is curious. If given the chance, she would appease that nature.
I saw those boys putting chemicals in a drink and was resolving to teach them a lesson, when I found out the drink was for m
