Anger From Inside Out Novels & Stories

Why can’t she just say, "Okay, I agree with you the way she used to?" I clench my jaw, the muscle ticking, and my eyes drift to the envelope in my hand again. I could end this right now. I could. Instead, the anger returns, rushing up like a wave I can’t stop, and I turn, storming toward the door, my steps heavy enough to shake the air. I leave the room, making sure the door stays wide open—just to get under her skin the way she’s gotten under mine, something I never thought would happen. Which could mean one thing…. Fuck!

Carlos replied She set the phone face-down on the counter and pressed both palms flat against the surface. The anger rising inside her was different this time. It wasn't the heavy, exhausting fury that had followed her for days. Instead, it was sharper, more focused, and aimed at someone she could finally see.

After a few minutes of listening to them speak about how powerful and dangerous she was, and the steps they needed to take to reduce the possibility of casualties, I couldn’t take anymore. I pushed my chair back so hard that it toppled over as I stood up. I narrowed my eyes at Gunner before stomping out and slamming the door behind me. I stood on the other side of the door for a moment. My breath was coming out in short harsh bursts as my anger rolled through me. I need answers, and there is only one person that can give me those. I stormed through the house and out on the patio. My anger hadn’t dissipated in the slightest. If anything, it increased tenfold. I could feel my bones starting to

Don't give her a parting smirk, a last taunt to rile her up. Instead, I turn on my heel and storm out of her office, my mind already spinning with every worst-case scenario. ~ The rage hasn't left me. It's been an hour since I stormed out of Moreau Enterprise, but the anger still burns, deep and unrelenting. It simmers beneath my skin, turning every thought to static, every nerve wired too tight. I press my foot harder against the accelerator, the speedometer climbing. The city blurs past me—cars, traffic lights, pedestrians—none of it fucking matters. I don't give a damn about speed limits or the blaring horns behind me. Let them honk. Let them curse.

I growled out as I ended the call and threw the phone onto the table with so much force. The anger boiling in me kept growing by the minute and I felt like I needed an outlet. I clenched my fist, and before I could think better of it, I slammed it into the glass table. The loud crack echoed in the room as the table splintered beneath my fist. Pain shot through my hand, and when I pulled it back I could see blood dripping onto the surface. I didn’t care. I barely felt it. My chest heaved heavily as I tried to calm myself. Rage was almost like a second skin for me. It was a familiar yet suffocating feeling always threatening to consume me entirely.

The anger inside me snapped. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was leaning down on top of him, my hands grabbing hold of his throat. My fingers pressed into his skin, firm and unrelenting. The feeling of his pulse under my fingertips, the way he tensed at my touch—it was like a release, a moment of clarity in the storm that had been building inside me. But even then, it didn’t feel enough. The fury was still there, swirling in the back of my mind, like a storm that had no place to go.

When I see that he is ready for everything I have, I let loose. I knock him off his feet several times. I barely let him get to his feet before I come at him again. All I can think about is what happened to me as a baby and how I missed out on what could have been a great life. I am angry from the inside out. Because of them, I don’t know how to accept my family. I don’t know how to receive a family’s love or how to be wanted, and that pisses me off even more. The more I think, the harder I hit. The more ferocious I feel inside, the more I let it pour through me.

Get the hell were they bashing on me. With a snarl, the brown wolf smirked, and the realisation dawned on me. Fucker! Aaron must have gotten them to say this shit to both distract and humiliate me. Another hot ripple of rage swelled in my chest. “Dora, let me mind-link Aaron.” “Angeline, that’s not a good idea.” “I have to!” I had to tell him a mouthful, spill the rage and darkness out before it suffocated me and weighed so much in my chest that it would dominate my reality.

Frustration builds, anger takes hold, Danielle's mind became uncontrolled; she mumbled to herself, lost in thought the turmoil within cannot be fought. She tried to calm, but the rage persisted regarding how she was being treated. Her mind becomes consumed, and her thoughts resist. The self-mumbling soothed her soul but the anger within still taken its toll. She needed an outlet, a way to release, to find peace and finally find some ease. Perhaps some venting or some sneaky revenge could help her find a way out of that mess.

In our classes we are taught in training to withdraw in order to prevent giving our opponents a serious injury. After a moment Jay glares at me, growling. “KICK HIS ASS ANGIE!!!” I hear Stu scream at me again and all of a sudden, it's like another switch went off in me. All of the pent up anger and rage start to bubble inside me, and I feel my wolf’s energy spring forward.