I don't own anything.
Rosalie's P.O.V.
I was having the worst of the worst of the absolute worst sort of day.
I stalked over to my car, yanked the door open, and then slammed it shut, trying to release some of my anger. The segundo I was in inside, I let out the shriek of a lifetime, pounding my palms on the steering wheel and shaking my head back and forth with the force of my scream.
And even after that, I didn't feel better, my throat just hurt. I probably hadn't screamed like that since I was about four years old. I reached into my bag, needing to vent out my frustrations before I drove home....
continue reading...
