Free Anger Mode by Stefan Tegenfalk

yesterday’s leftovers, she threw the food in the rubbish bin. She tried a sandwich, but that was not edible either. Even the wine that she hoped would take the edge off her anxiety was unpalatable. Everything tasted metallic, nauseating – everything except the tap water.
    The anxiety within her gradually turned into a rage that grew in proportion to the time that passed without any communication from Malin. After a while, Karin started to talk to herself. At first, it was more of a mutter, with some swear words directed at Sanna and her drunk of a mother. Later, it progressed to soliloquies, in which she loudly and clearly either berated or entreated Malin for one thing or another. It was comforting to talk loudly to herself, to drown out the voices in her head, which all the while were growing stronger. But finally, not even that helped. An unbearable pain cut through Karin’s head. Something was happening to her. What it was, she did not know, but she felt like a pressure cooker that was slowly overheating, and the only way out was to …
    She could not think like that. It was unacceptable to have these thoughts, but still she did and she became confused, terrified by them.
    Then a sudden, stabbing pain, and she spun around with a scream. The spice rack flew to the floor and glass from the little spice bottles shattered all over the kitchen floor.
    “Damn it!” she screamed and grabbed her head. The voices became louder and louder. If only she had the kid in front of her now. God knows what she would do to her.

C HAPTER 7
    MALIN SLOWLY OPENED her eyes. She was freezing, so much so that her teeth chattered. One knee was sore, and she lay on cold, damp grass surrounded by thick bushes. Her trousers and jacket were muddy and she found it difficult to get her bearings. The bushes were dense and stretched high above her. Even if she stood on tiptoe, she could not see over, much less through, the bushes. She could not for the life of her understand how she had ended up here.
    The only thing she remembered was that Sanna and Mustafa had disappeared into the bedroom. And, of course, that bearded dealer, the guy who was so unpleasant. He was also there when they sat in Mustafa’s living room. Everything after that was obscured by darkness.
    Malin became angry. She felt betrayed and abandoned by Sanna and Mustafa.
    Because they had done … what? Why was she really angry? Because she had ended up here. How had she, in fact, come to this place? She suddenly realized that she perhaps had been raped. An icy feeling seized her. What if that dealer had done something to her? Laid over her, drooling and panting like some fucking animal? She checked. Her jeans were properly buttoned and she felt no pain in her crotch at least. Probably a good sign. She had to get home and shower. Everything was so fucked up.
    Malin fumbled for her mobile phone and found it in her jacket pocket. She did not usually keep it there. She was going to call Sanna, but the display was as blank as her head was right now. Presumably, the battery was dead. Despite that, she tried to restart it by repeatedly pressing the button. The phone remained dead.
    “Fucking hell!” she swore angrily and threw away the phone. Now everything was against her. She stood up carefully and limped out between two bushes without picking up her mobile phone. It was dark and she had difficulty seeing.
    A two-storey block of flats towered in front of her, and a lamp was alight over the basement door to the building. By the side of the door, a bike stood chained fast. It looked familiar. The bike was hers.
    Limping and swearing, Malin made her way around the building and in through the door at the front. There were seven steps up to the flat. She would be able to manage those, in spite of the terrible pain from her damned knee.
    Mrs Ekblom’s little chihuahua barked as soon as she came into the stairwell. The dog that Malin normally loved was no longer cute. The barking and