When I am angry I go to a dark room. That room is so dark there is only one hole that the light comes through. It is quite cold and lonely. I just sit there and I hear voices talking to me. My anger just overwhelms me and the darkness takes over.
It feels like I am lying against a wall and waves of raging waters crash against my body. It feels as if I am about to cross over into another world and I can’t do anything about it. Then a hand reaches out to me and grabs me by the hand. I give it a name. I call it P.J. It is my angel.
There is other side of him that makes me feel like I am walking on a beach. When I look at the sun set it reminds me of who I am. Just walking on the golden sand as my feet sink into the water, cooling my feet. I feel as if someone has thrown a bucket of ice over my burning body of rage.
By Tapiwa Muriranyama a Grade 6 learner at Timour Hall Primary School in Plumstead, Cape Town, written during an English class exercise.
