"Trick or treat!" the kid practically screams in my face; couldn't be more than seven or eight years old. I think it only dawned on me that I had broken his little button nose with our ceramic pumpkin bowl when one of the girls from the house yanked me inside. "I didn't even get him any candy yet, Denise." my voice was annoyed, though I don't know why considering I had just punched a little kid.

The second time I had an outburst of it's kind was on November 22nd, and it wasn't a little kid this time. I know this because this time she punched me back twice as hard. Denise had already moved out of the house by now, somewhere in Colorado with her fine piece of ass boyfriend and her small dog that looked like an ewok with a snaggle tooth.

The third one came over me like a rush of adrenaline. I was hanging streamers for my aunt's son's birthday party when it filled me up. My head spun and my strength amplified by a thousand. I kicked the little step ladder over as I charged in the direction of AnnaMae Charter, knocking the wind out of her petite body when she crashed into the burgundy wall behind her. A group of moms pried me off of her.

The fourth time I had an outburst was the next year in the middle of April. I was listening to music on a public bus when I got this spontaneous pounding headache, and I was told that it wouldn't stop until I had another violent episode. This time my victim was my own reflection in the bus mirror. I hit it so hard that my hand started oozing blood, but those windows were pretty damn sturdy. Not even a crack.

The last outburst occurred in the middle of a September night. I woke up with this urge to hurt something, someone. I didn't live near anyone, and that left one person... me.
This would be the second time I hurt myself with one of my freakouts. I searched through my kitchen for something hard and not hard to lift. I slammed the object into my face, and upon looking down I realized that I had just broken my own nose with a ceramic pumpkin bowl.