Excerpt from Splinter

Acting out.
         There was an orange and purple lava lamp plugged right into the wall, right next to Freya. The metallic bottom wasn’t that hot, it didn’t burn her skin as she picked it up and threw it. The thing smashed into the wall on the other side of the room, and exploded into an array of toxic neon substance.
         Everyone gasped.
         Freya didn’t wait for recognition or silence; she stood up and found another lava lamp. It went over her head and onto the shag carpet. And like this one shattered, so did the people.
         Slater had grasped her arm. She slipped out of it into the living room, where her hands found and tipped over a glass table on a wall. She screamed as she pulled the painting of the ocean off the wall, kicked the fabric in of the couch. A fist fell on the side of her head, and she collapsed into the carpet.
         What was once an atmosphere of happy sin and relaxation transformed into violent chaos. Dizzy but fueled purely by oblivious adrenaline Freya found her feet again. Roaring with rage, Slater wrapped his arms around her, and she shrieked horrifically. But upon Slater fell Leila, who was like an Amazon to begin with. She cried like a lioness and gripped her hands around his neck. Freya was released and instinctively she ran for the door, the elusive basement door.
         Her palm felt the cold door knob and within a heart beat she was up the stairs. There was a light spilling out from the end. She was almost there.
         Then a fist clutched her ankle. She fell into the stair, dragged down by iron strength back into the darkness. She screamed and flailed.
         Slater always won.

***
“Wh-what?” Max asked, dazed. “I don’t think I heard right.”
         “I’m so very, very sorry!” The woman on the other end replied. “I should have spoken to Mr. Watts!”
         “My mom is dead?” Max had stood up. His books slammed into the ground as they had fallen off the counter. “What do you mean she’s dead?”
         “She committed suicide last night. I’m sorry.”
         “How? Where?” Max’s voice was frantic. The television in the living room flicked off.
         “It was an overdose. In Brigham City. This is the Brigham County coroner. She left a note and everything-“
         “DAD!” Max shouted. His father got up from the couch and approached him- his eyes like stone.
         “This is for you!”
         Jonathan ducked as the phone flew over his head and collided with a vase.