the little boy looked out of the window at the storm clouds gathering, he was angry, not at anybody in particular, and maybe just angry with himself. he wanted it so bad he could feel, his stomach ached with tension, his jaw clenched tight, he wanted to stamp his feet, to shout and scream. his face was full of frowns and creases, his chest rising and falling at pace, his lips pulled tight together. he looked back at the book he had been reading, it now sat on the floor with half it’s pages torn out. the door opened and at that point he realised what he had done, what he had become, and more importantly why he had done it. he wanted to be better, to be stronger, to be the best he could be, to be better than that…god he wanted it so badly, maybe too badly!

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