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Viewing Single Post From: Feeling Kind of Anxious
I'm a Cactus
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chicanerous... and deplorable
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"SON OF A BITCH!"

The chain-link fence barely had time to react before the boot came out and slammed directly into its' centre section. The fence groaned under the impact of the boot, but still maintained the upright position that it had for years. The owner of the boot continued on, angrily stomping right by the area that he had just kicked. Such a display of anger or aggresson might have been commonplace for Trent Hunter in the years prior to his incarceration, but since he'd essentially remade himself into a promising member of society, he'd tried very hard to keep his temper under wraps. For the most part, he'd succeeded.

Until now.

Upon waking up, Trent had used every single bit of brainpower into clearing his brain and assessing his situation. As soon as the memories clearly came rushing back to him, and he recalled the kidnapping, the murder of their teachers, the presentation ... it all just seemed so utterly senseless, and did nothing but piss him off. Not only did it infuriate him for how socially unacceptable and horrific the whole thing was, but it meant that Trent had essentially escaped one form of incarceration and traded it off for another, far more deadly form. So even though he tried to be as even-tempered and regulated as possible, Trent Hunter was so mad that he kicked a fence.

It didn't help at all that he'd managed to draw a package of edible men's underwear as a 'weapon' (and he'd tossed them over the edge of the small cliff in disgust as soon as he'd looked at them), which meant that he would begin this twisted competition at a disadvantage to anyone who'd managed to luck out with anything short of a knife.

With my history, doesn't exactly bode well for my long-term survival prospects.

Grumbling to himself, Trent glanced around the area. As far as he could tell, there was nobody else sitting around the viscinity, and he hadn't heard any sort of gunshots, so evidently nobody had begun to start killing people yet. Even still, he knew that being complacent wasn't something that he could afford to do. At any time, someone could appear, and with the simple push of a button, that could mean the end of his life. A life that he'd worked so very hard to make mean something.

A life that could very well be over in a matter of days.

"DAMMIT!"

The fence groaned under his boot's assault once more.
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Singlehandedly raised the v1 average word count by 1000 words per character. My god. || Trying to be the best me that I can be.
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Feeling Kind of Anxious · Southern Cliffs