*Brody*
I sat on the floor, agitated. I was torn by all possible emotions, from which rage, remorse, and shame had all mixed together to create an explosive mixture. I had to let my feelings out, and I thought the best way would be to go to the gym at night to hit the punching bag. What seemed like a good idea at first quickly stopped being so. None of the bags were a challenge; I had punctured or torn off each of the five hanging punching bags with a decisive blow.
When that didn't work, I turned to the training dummies, which, for us shapeshifters, are made of a more durable material than regular foam, which was no challenge for me either; my fists hit so hard and precise that the rubbery foam imitating a human's skin began to crack and each of the dummies was left without a head. Hav
