Rejection

"But why?" the young man lamented, a piece of paper crumpling in his hand as it tightened involuntarily.
"How could she do this to me?"

Looking on with a strange mixture of sympathy and disdain the other members of his gang kept their peace. In truth they had all seen it coming, some had even tried to warn him. It was too late for words though. Pointing out that it had been inevitable would only lead to conflict within the group.

He looked around the room, unfocussed eyes not seeing friends or familiar trappings of the warehouse they called home. The only sight in his vision was one that was not and would never again be there, her face. As shock started to set in so did a fog that dimmed his awareness further. Slowly his legs became incomprehensibly weak and he sank to the cold hard floor. Breathing became difficult as emotions started to unfold within the fog captivating him as they played across his psyche. Despair and pure, unadulterated grief fought with each other for the upper hand in his emotions.

The gangers, not used to seeing weakness in their membership (particularly in this member), became embarrassed very quickly. Morbid curiosity held gripped them, and to a man they could not drag themselves from the scene. An older boy grabbed a blanket from one of the piles of cushions lying around. Mindful of the chill that pervaded this place even in the height of summer he draped it around his friends' shoulders. Then bending quickly picked up the offending letter and carried it to one side where he could read it without causing more distress to his friend. The other, less influential gang members could only strain their ears to try and hear exactly what had been said.

"Dear Sebastian ... bad idea ... visit ... sorry ... best this way ... be friends"

A flash of anger crossed the readers' face. Those watching carefully could see him slowly draw a deep breath and then release it. He looked up at them.
"Lock down the house, I don't want anyone that isn't a member in here. Nobody is to find out about this understand?"
Upon getting general assent he assigned tasks to keep them all busy and prepare for the bloodshed that was sure to follow.

The fog had deepened, indeed there was not even awareness of the hands that helped him unsteadily to his feet. The grief had won and with it came a world of pain. Unlike the physical pain that was a constant in his life this could not be hidden from, there was nowhere to retreat to. A small part of him, seemingly immune to the tumult of emotion, noted with bemusement the irony of an outcome anticipated even by himself causing such misery. The rest of him wept, struggling only to keep the tears inside, nobody must see him cry. The tears came though, and with them came anger. Somewhere deep down inside of each of us is a well that holds all of our most primal emotions. Slowly at first but with growing speed the anger flowed into him from this place, driving back the other more complex emotions until all that was left was rage and fog. As quickly as it had sprung up the fog was gone and then there was just a young man needing release.

"You back?" A seemingly innocuous question yet filled with complex undertones only fully understood by the two of them.

Awareness of his surroundings flooded back to the young man. He was in his room, sitting on his bed. His best friend was beside him watching with sympathy and understanding. Answering was all but impossible. Every time he tried to speak the rage would rise again blocking his throat with emotion. In the end all he could do was nod, which was a statement in itself.

"Now I'm thinking that you're probably in an unpleasant mood and needing to work some of it off."
There was a pause as he gauged the effect of these words before continuing.
"I've got a war party ready to go and deal with the Crushers moving into our territory. Are you up for it?"

Again the young man attempted to answer, and again the rage rose in his throat blocking all hopes of speech. Again he nodded.

"Ok, lets get going then." A pause.
"And Sap?" The young man looked directly at the speaker for the first time.

"I'm truly sorry." Not waiting for a response he was up and out the door calling others to arms before his words had registered.

Listening to the background clatter without really hearing it, Sap started to disconnect from reality. The world became distant, almost irrelevant to him. Without thought he stood and drifted out into the communal hall. Standing in the middle of chaotic preparations he felt relatively calm. That changed all too soon the preparations were completed

It was barely 10 minutes later when they left the warehouse, only a nominal group left to guard against a counter attack. Scouts fanned out looking for their the target of their ire, checking back in as the main group headed directly for enemy territory.

Sap walked in the center of the group, not through choice but because the others had orders not to let him too far away. He realised none of this; the only thing that occupied his mind was a rage too great to hold in. One that he absolutely had to share, and the sooner the better.

Then it was time, walking around a corner the group almost bumped into a congregation of Crushers outside of their own territory.

The Crushers' leader started insulting his opposition in the unspoken tradition that precedes all fights in the gang world.
"Well look what..."

That was as far as he got however. Sap had seen enemy colours and realised that here was a group of people he could teach to understand just how much he hurt inside, the floodgates opened.

Rage, that was all that was in his mind now. An animal rage that called not so much to be released as transferred, hopefully relieving the pressure building up against his skull. He saw a target and launched himself towards it. As he did so the last vestiges of control slipped away and the hatred that such a rage always seems to evoke began to flow. Like bile it gathered in the center of his body and then forced its way up past his chest, into his throat and out of his mouth in the form of a scream, that started in a vicious snarl and finished in a crazed call to arms. He attacked.

Five minutes and a lifetime later, Sap sat leaning back against a wall. Breathing was difficult, he was pretty sure that somewhere along the way he had cracked a rib. There was also some fairly serious bruising to various parts of his body. The clothes he was wearing were no longer recognisable and there were bloodstains everywhere. How much of it belonged to him was a mystery. Looking around he could see many unconscious bodies lying on the road and the sidewalk, most of them members of the Crushers. As a battle it had been an unmitigated success. He didn't really remember much of it but he was fairly certain he had done his bit.

A throat being cleared took his attention away from the scene and to his companion.
"You feeling better?"

Sap pondered this for a while. The grief was still there nestled away in a corner of his heart that had earlier that day been full of another emotion. The despair however was gone and his pain had been reduced to a level he could manage.
"I'll survive."