WRATH OF ELIJAH WEST

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Dorothy’s face froze, unexpecting the rage that dominated Eljah, her heart skipped intermittent beats. “W-what do -y-you think you are doing?” Dorothy stammered.

“I might be a fool, but don’t think I also don’t have my feelings,” Elijah said with gritted teeth as he realized he was starting to go out of character. He had imagined headbutting Dorothy until she passed out or dislocating her shoulder in his grip. He imagined lots of things to make Dorothy the first to suffer at his hand, however, his imagination would be interrupted by Haylee sprinting down the stairs to put an end to his madness.

“This is my mother, what do you think you are doing?” Haylee said, reddening Elijah’s cheek with a slap.

Elijah’s face twitched and then beamed like a drunk man who had become sober. He lost the sense of having to remain in character, as there was no purpose for him to keep his identity. He marched to his room and dropped on the bed, staring at the glowing ceiling. It was the first tim