You get to a point where you just can’t take it anymore. Where everything that’s happened to you just piles up, and up, and up, and up inside you- until one day you just explode. It doesn’t matter where you are, or who you are- it just happens. And then it just ignites this fire inside you that won’t go out, that can’t go out. And you just keep going, and going and going- and you can’t stop yourself until you just burn out.

I grunted, hitting the wall again and again. The rhythmic pounding of my fists against the plaster echoed the incessant pounding of my heart in my chest. Again. And again. And again. My hands throbbed, but the adrenaline swimming through my mind dulled it to a numb ache. I kept swinging, the plaster cracking and falling away beneath my bloody fingers.

I’d taken this for long enough now. Taken living with everyone else’s stupid problems, taken having to carefully construct walls around myself to prevent this from happening. Those walls weren’t exactly all that helpful though, now that I thought about it.

I suddenly hated everyone for not asking me what was wrong. Then again, why would they? It wasn’t like I showed any sign of emotion around them. They wouldn’t have known anyway. I didn’t blame them, though. It was my stupid fault for not saying something, for refusing to let them in. I was as angry with myself as I was at them.

My punches became as rhythmic as my heartbeat. I could feel the fire beginning to ebb away, and with each hit my head felt lighter. Before long my hands no longer ached, and I felt something like relief. My punches slowed, along with my breathing, and I collapsed.

When I woke up my hands were bloody and raw. I went to put my weight on them to get up and ended up biting back a scream as I lay back against the ground. I didn’t think I’d broken anything, but my hands still hurt like hell. The fire had finally gone out, leaving behind the choking smoke that clouded my thoughts and left my brain numb. I was no longer angry- I wasn’t sure I could feel anything over the throbbing of my hands- and I was just so tired of everything. At least now I wouldn’t have to take my anger out on one of the lunatics I beat up for a living.

Even superheroes need to break sometimes.