~Maddess is not always hatred, but hatred is truly maddening~
It’s there again tonight, always just out of the corner of your eye. You can feel its presence weighing down the atmosphere; see its aura in every shadow, seeping in and around the floorboards. Worst of all is when it’s hovering right behind you, bold enough for feathery fingers to stroke your clothes and lock your gaze grip-tight with its own from behind your skull.
Other people don’t have to deal with this. Everyone else always seems to have everything together.
Yeah right. They’re just as fucked up as you, if not worse. Won’t stop them from preaching their hypocrisies and double standards though, will it? Like how Mother Dearest has that stupid expectation of you to act like-
Shut up.
You feel it smile behind you. The veins under your eyes strain sore as it presses closer.
You’re so sure you’re right, because no one knows what it’s like being you, experiencing this. They pick up a psychology book and act like they have you all figured out. Of course you don’t say anything. You’ve lived long enough to know how much you suck with communication. Besides, you’ll just act ‘silly’ and ‘sensitive’, so what’s the point of feeling?
No one cares, and no one should. It’s no big deal. Never mind.
Bullshit.
It’s from that buried bottle that It clawed up from, complete with those feathered fingers to open you up and heavy, wilted sludge to choke its way in and drown you.
Perhaps you really are a retard. Thinking you could just shrug all of It off with a ‘forgiveness’ of past actions. It reminds you for every incident you even think of that lying word. Like how you silently ‘forgive’ your brother every time he uses you to get away wit-
Shut up. Shutupshutupshutup SHUT UP!
The invisible digits sink into your skin, tilting the chair and your world slants even more. It doesn’t just burn your arms searing hot to leave you a passionate pulsing scarlet, but every cell the translucent feathers breeze through keeps them constantly prickled frozen until numb.
Just a little reminder that it’s still here… And it always will be here.
… Just why? Why does it always come back? Why does it always have to come back? You’ve been told that you have thick skin, complimented for your independence and determination.
And yet you’re still the most ‘difficult’ one in every group you’re in. Just another label for every self-righteous dipshit to slap you with.
Stop it! Why do you keep letting this stuff get under your skin!?
Maybe it’s because you secretly enjoy this.
You sick fuck.
You don’t even let yourself forget about how dangerously you’re leaning your chair back, a balancing act between an apathetic shrug and the need to puke, cry, and punch something all at the same time – and FAST.
But you don’t even try that. You don’t attempt to disappear or even die, but ensnare the punishment of eternal suffering. Damn you.
It’s not stopping the waterworks from your nose and eyes. If only you could just flick yourself off like a light switch – like what everybody expects you can do, but that’s a physical impossibility.
Why does this have to haunt you? Why do you let yourself feel this way? Let the chains shackle you to the prison of your pasts? Why can’t you just for fucking once in your life actually deal with this shit!?
Right now, it’s just all you have.
It rapes you and leaves a leaking shell of silence.
~
This was a pretty despairing piece to write. My first attempt was to just write about it, then I tried to put hatred in a more positive light, with my character using it as a more productive means, but I'm afraid that some downer days and re-occurring negative feelings have made this entry more melancholic. At least I feel better now, reading the other entries has helped as well.
I do wonder... The contest asked for us to focus on how hatred can either strengthen or weaken a character... How do readers rate 'You'?626Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡuCQjWKJAto
and then Add to home screen.