Rage is said to come in blindfolded, in a moment when one loses their ability to logic.

As Sabastian stands in front of me, hands in his pocket, I feel the rage.

I feel my logic and sense of control slip.

My eyes must narrow. My body lunges forward as my fist meets his face. The pain is a welcoming agony as it shoots up my hand to my wrist.

Sabastian doesn't go down from my glorified punch. He retaliates, with a punch of his own to my gut, knocking the wind out of me, ...