The Five Stages of Grief (Insane AU) SKEPHALO

Chapter 2: Anger

anger (noun): a strong feeling of annoyance, displeasure, or hostility.

•Zak•

When you're alone in a basement, you have a lot of time to yourself to think. And boy, did I do some thinking. The longer I sat tied in the basement alone, the more I started realizing the mess I was in.

I had figured some hours had passed since I initially woke up, but then again, there was no clock or anything to inform me of the time. The room was completely empty besides what seemed to be a filing cabinet and a shelf up against the back wall. I couldn't see completely behind me since I couldn't turn around, though.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

"How could my best friend betray me like this?" The thought caused my hands to clench up subconsciously, and I felt the burn of the ropes again. By now, my wrists were raw and irritated from constantly pulling to try to escape.

But the tugging and struggling did nothing. I was still trapped in a dusty basement with no ways of escape.

It was then that I had come to a realization that this was very real. This was actually happening.

Darryl was probably a psychopath, which hurt my soul to think about since we were so close.

He never showed signs of anything like this. He was always so kind and gentle—not possessive and crazy. This didn't seem like the real him at all.

In mere seconds, the hurt started to boil inside my chest, transforming into something more threatening.

A loud groan escaped my mouth, and before I could think I was yelling.

"DARRYL!"

I blinked, slightly scared of the loud sound I had created. The venom behind the word shook me to my core. It had been quiet for so long that I thought I had gone deaf.

I felt fear replace the anger. "Do I actually want to see him?"

Quickly, I began praying he didn't hear me.

I sat in anxious silence for a few minutes, thinking I had gotten lucky. "Maybe it's nighttime now and he is asleep."

Then, the door rattled.

Out of it came a panicked looking man.

"Zak, what's wrong?" Darryl asked, rushing over to me. Seeing his face brought the anger back rapidly.

"How can you ask that? Look at me!" I shouted, glaring into his rich-colored eyes.

He frowned, and his eyes trailed down to my wrists. "Oh my goodness, Zak, what did you do?" He leaned down, examining the redness.

"Get the fuck away from me," I snarled, but he didn't listen.

"Hang on, I'm gonna go grab some bandages," he announced frantically, running back up the stairs.

He left the door open, letting me see out into a carpeted room of his house and through the sliver of a window. The sky was growing dark, revealing how long I had actually been in the basement already.

Then Darryl fumbled down the stairs with a first aid kit and a pair of scissors. My eyes widened at the sharp metal, seeing something I could potentially use to my advantage.

"Could I really stab my best friend?" My thoughts questioned myself and my morals. I looked down at my tied wrists. "Is he even my best friend now?"