The Pace of A Stranger

Screams.
There are so many in my head, why is this happening to me? What are these sounds? Now there’s laughter, then someone telling me to grab him by the hair and bite through the skin on his neck, but why? Nothing makes sense right now, it’s all so jumbled up and going a hundred miles an hour. There’s sex, fantasy, blood, pain, sex, screaming, punching, pulling my own hair out, everything is just so….crazy.
Like me.
“Come on! You’ve been sitting here for an hour just looking at me! What the fuck is your problem?” Laughing, and screaming I run, dance, and skip away from him. I’m hugging myself, so lost in whatever is going on in my mind. He comes up behind me.
“What is wrong with you?” Oh, he’s such a sad, sad soul. He makes me want to hug him in my arms and just sing to him like he’s a small child. But a child, he is not. So tall, handsome, wispy blonde curls that fall to his brow, those eyes, so mossy you would think you’re looking into a murky abyss. What the hell is wrong with him? Me, of all people he could have, I’m nothing compared to him, or the women he had before me.
I put my hands over my eyes, rubbing them I murmur, “Oh, you’re so fucked up in the head Kevin.” I laugh, but I hear no laugh from him.
“I think you’ve got it ass backwards Jill. You’re fucking psychotic.”
Taking my hands from my eyes, I stare at him, a dark look in my eyes. Who the hell does he think he is, he doesn’t own me, or have any right to say what I am and am not. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You ain’t no god damn body! You’re a fucking joke, an excuse for a man, you’re such a piece of work, you know that?” Then I feel myself do it, I push him, hard. What am I doing, it’s happening again.
Something is taking over me again. I step forward and try to push him again but he grabs my hands.
Sternly, he says my name. “Jillian.”
“Shut up.” I laugh at him as I kick him in the groin, and he lets go of my hands.
I push him again and he falls on his butt, and there I go, the thing taking over me takes control and pushes him back onto the floor. Straddling his hips, I take his face sharply in both on my hands. He seems so weak, why?