She used to be your little raging beast.

A monster you could poke with a stick and it would scream and scratch at the slightest contact.

You could laugh at her and she would rage.

The rage would consume her,
Consume her entirely.

It would form a cocoon around her, keeping the little scared girl away from the world.

It would make way for rage, for anger, for violence.

It would manifest in screaming and terror.

It would manifest in attacks and insults, firing back at everything that tried to poke her.

A flame burning with hatred.

But every flame burns out eventually.
So rage parted and sorrow took control.

He shed new tears, but kept the same screams, the same heartbreak.

He spoke quietly, anxiously waiting for the rage to come back and push him away.

But rage never came again.

Not publically anyways.

Not aimed at anyone except her.

Weakness felt horrible, a terrifying loss of control.

Not that she had ever owned control.

Control had always been out of reach, hiding away from it, her or him. Away from them.

Control was stashed away, put behind unbreakable walls, that only got harder with every emotion.

And the little girl cowered and wept, for rage could not get control. So rage did what it did best.

Rage.

And sorrow wept and wept. Sorrow wept for control, that would never come home.

Sorrow wept for rage, that would always be there, simmering away behind transparent curtains.

Sorrow wept for himself, that would never leave again, forever stuck here.

Sorrow wept for the little girl, hidden away from everything, unable to come out and face the world.

Control saw everything.

Control did nothing.

Control did what they did best.

Sit in the shadows, never coming out.

Control was not there to act.

There was nothing to act on anyways.

Rage and Sorrow would never part for them.

It and him couldnt.

Not in their nature.

Control was small and frail.

They had tried once.

Failure had hurt so badly.

So they hid even further than the little girl, and folded themself as tight as possible.

Control wasnt there.

Control was indescribable, truly.

For how could you put something into words, that never had been there?

The little girl looked up.

Rage had stopped its screaming a while ago.

Sorrow had come and taken over.

Weeping in front of her.

Control was still gone.

She wished she could do something.

But everything seemed so far out of reach, and truly...

She did not want to face anything.

A horrible thing, to think about the Outside.

So she didnt.

Ignorance was better anyways.