There it was again, swelling up inside of me. A swarm of tingling moths trapped within my knotted stomach, struggling to escape. Fire burst from my brother’s squinting eyes. Each enraged cry he made sent out scalding steam, burning my face and eyes. My fear, the dust-colored moths barely contained within me, strived harder to burst from my chest. I moved my head sideways, almost being struck in the face by his flaming fist. The heat reddened my face, sweat formed in small droplets on my forehead. The acrid stench of burnt skin filled the air. My neck was bleeding and blistered. The steam from his roaring cry burned my eyes, causing them to tear as I attempt to calm his flames. But, my own anger is smoldering now, waiting to erupt and consume the moths eating me from the inside out. As the moths died away in puffs of grey ash, I grew tired of my brother’s raging inferno. He lashed out again, his blaze grazing my nose. The moths within me were incinerated as my own anger was fueled by his. I struck him now, dropping him to the floor. The taste of ashes and smoke filled my mouth as I retorted his cry. But before he had even hit the ground, my own fire had been smothered, squelched by the realization of what had just happened. And, from the smoldering ashes of my stomach, the grey moths rose to attack me from within once again, as my brother laid, steaming, on the floor.
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