Consuming Hate: Prologue

Hate.

People always say that hate is a corrupt emotion, that we shouldn’t hate others, because it’s bad or wrong. I believe that the emotion, hate, is misjudged.

Hate is pointless if the reason is not good enough. One shouldn’t truly hate another for a minor mistake or action.

Hate is like any other emotion, it’s like love, yet the opposite. Hate is an intense and blazing sensation, it bubbles up within someone and consumes them. While love causes you to glow and become a better and happier person.

Love is like a passionate light, while hatred is like a swirling, maddening darkness. A never-ending, brewing storm.

Hate is an emotion that’s as fragile as crackling fire or glass. It burns and builds and breaks you. If it’s in the wrong hands, things get out of control. It’s what makes people lose themselves and develop a strong sense of anger and wrath. Then, it becomes a need for revenge.

Hatred is only acceptable when there is a good enough reason to hate the person. It’s perfectly okay to hate someone who tormented you, bullied you, and made your life miserable. Or in other words; an abuser.

That reason is what made me hate him every second of the day, it’s what made me despise his existence.

I loathe him with every ounce of energy in my body. He has put me through hell and has done unbelievable, humiliating things to me. If someone else was in my position, they would surely hate him as well.

Lots of people say they hate something or someone but they don’t mean it, or they don’t hate it enough. They get overwhelmed over something miniscule and say they hate the other being, they over react about certain reasons to not truly hate someone.

Some overdramatic people think they know the true meaning of hate, but they don’t.

True hate is that bubbling anger and burning within you. It’s something that’s there at all time. It makes you want to do terrible, sickening and vengeful things. It’s the shaking hands, grinding teeth and crazed eyes.

It’s being terrified of your own emotions; terrified at the amount of anger and seething rage inside of you.

I’ve felt that kind.

I know the real feeling of hate, the pulsating, overwhelming feeling. The hate I feel for him is like an inferno, just growing and rising rapidly by every second of the day. It’s horrid and aggressive.

People often wonder what made me hate the guy so much. They wonder what in the hell he could have done to me that grew such an overpowering hate within me. That made such a sweet and kind girl like me want to loathe someone so much, that made me do regrettable things.

Caiden and I have technically known each other most of our lives and had attended the same school all the way up until graduation. Though not in the romantic or cliché way where we’ve been best friends since and ended up becoming lovers.

We were the opposite, he made the choice to make me an enemy. I have no idea why. One day, I hope to get an answer. But for now, I drive myself crazy with theories.

Most people would say that if a boy is mean to you, then he likes you. I can certainly say that is not the case. A guy that’s into a girl and acts mean would playfully tease, maybe play a few pranks, insult not too harshly etc. They would do things, sometimes mean things, to get their attention.

That wasn’t how Caiden acted. He was horrid, rude and cruel. The things he did wasn’t to get my attention, he simply did those things to torment me.

He hates me, I hate him.

Though, I’m not exactly sure when or how he grew a disliking towards me. It’s just always been that way. I tried to be nice to him but obviously it wasn’t enough.

Or maybe I just wasn’t good enough. That part will always be a mystery to me.

Hell, he started disliking me before I even introduced myself properly. If I can remember correctly, the first thing he said to me was and I quote “get away from me you creep” which I don’t understand why because I wasn’t even being a creep. In fact, all I did was sit next to him at snack time because there were no more spots and he looked lonely.

Though, maybe he was just having a bad day, and got annoyed with the presence of another person. I always tried to convince myself that maybe it wasn’t personal, maybe I just made a bad first impression, and that impression stuck with him, causing an immediate disliking.

Maybe it’s something that has totally gone over my head.

Anyway, don’t start blaming me when he was the one that started it for whatever reason, I just went along with it, because acting kind to him obviously wouldn’t work. As the years went by, and as 

Caiden got older, stronger and moodier; it wasn’t just childish insults or immature pranks anymore, it got worse, much worse.

As we grew up, he got meaner and crueler it seemed with every passing day. One of the first major things he had done to me was around 5^th grade, he had deliberately pushed me off the playground set which was thankfully not too high. Although, I had still gotten my arm sprained along with a sore leg. 

I’m not sure if he meant to cause that, but it happened.

He didn’t even say sorry. In fact, he wasn’t even caught. Since he was the only one near, the teachers deemed him as the witness. So, when the principal interrogated him for what happened, he lied easily right to their faces.

He slyly told them that I was being horribly clumsy and that I fell off on accident, and that he was just an innocent bystander who just happened to see it.

His story seemed convincing, that even I would have thought it did happen if I wasn’t the victim in it, so they believed him.

He then gave me a smug smirk when they weren’t looking and I’m sure that’s the day I really started disliking him.

I knew in my gut that this wasn’t over, that I would never forgive him, that we would forever be enemies. I knew the pranks would only get worse.

I was right.

From there on he gained more experience and even more confidence, and it almost seemed like he enjoyed tormenting me like the sadist he was.

The pranks turned into bullying and cruel insults. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I was powerless against his wrath.

Though the thing is, I was always the victim in a lot of the situations. I’ve only pulled one prank on him and that was putting onions in his locker, which was very amateur of me apparently. He always seemed to have the upper hand against me, and always won.

Truth is, I’ve been too scared to do anything back to him, because I can honestly say I’m a coward. A scared coward.

I hate myself because I’m too nice, even how much I hate him I could never do anything back to him because I know the feeling of sadness. That feeling of worthlessness and pain. That horrible feeling that sometimes makes you just want to end everything; permanently.

I know how it feels to be weak, to fear going to school every day, to have paranoia about what’s going to happen and to always be looking over my shoulder. I could never give someone else that same fear.

People say that if you’re being bullied or harassed to tell an adult or get help. They think it’s so easy to go up to someone and announce you’re being tormented, and maybe it is that easy.

I can’t though.

I’m scared of what he’ll do, and believe me I know what he’ll probably do, because I know what he’s capable of. I’m afraid that he’ll blackmail me, that he’ll make it my fault, that he’ll get even angrier. 

I’m afraid that he’ll lose control and become even worse. These paranoias consume me during the day and night, I overthink about everything that could happen if I snitch, so I concluded that maybe it’s best if nobody knows, and that it’s our little secret. I decided that I’m not destined to win, that’s just not how it is.

He wins. I lose. Always.

I’d rather take the beating than tell someone about it and possibly cause something worse to happen.

I can honestly say that he’s a monster.

Heartless;

Careless;

Guiltless.

He has never shown an ounce of pity towards me. Whenever I gaze into those hypnotizing brown eyes, all I see is dullness. It’s like a dark empty void.

He’s incapable of loving or caring. He has absolutely no excuse for what he has been doing to me, or how he’s acted throughout the years. I don’t see how other people don’t see through his fake façade. I don’t see how other people don’t see him for the monster he is.

How can they be so oblivious? Do they not see the pain I endure from him every day? Maybe they do notice though, but they’re just too scared to do anything, or maybe they don’t even care.

I don’t see how he can be so horrible without consequence; he gets away with even the cruelest things. That made me angry.

It seems that he can always manipulate situations, make it look like it’s another persons’ fault. I witnessed him doing this. He had done something that will never be forgiven, and that he can never undo. I concluded that he had done it intentionally to hurt me.

Although, I don’t think he meant for things to get as bad as they did. But the bad things did happen. 

He even seemed proud, as if he liked the idea that I felt hurt and weak. He didn’t even seem fazed by the outcome.

He had slept with my older sister.

I had been coming back from the Library, after doing some studying. It was a peaceful day so far. But little did I know that the peace would vanish quickly, as it had erupted in chaos.

The minute I pulled into the driveway and saw his car, I knew something was wrong. So, I had then rushed inside, fearing what I was about to witness. Fearing what horrid thing he’s planning now.

I was right to be paranoid.

Hearing noises and moans from upstairs, I had quickly jogged up there, wondering what could possibly be going on. I followed the sounds to my sister’s room and had cautiously pushed open the door. What I saw inside made me want to vomit and tear my hair out.

Caiden had hooked up with my sister. She was laying by him willingly; it had made me wonder how she could be so oblivious and careless. He had given me a grin, though there was nothing soft or happy about it. The grin was meant to show me that he had won again, and there’s nothing I could do.

My sister had found out a month later that she was pregnant with his child, and that horrified me. I hesitantly told Caiden about it, not knowing how he’ll react. He didn’t care though, and he ended up leaving her, alone and scared. Having to deal with the pregnancy on her own.

My mother had somehow found out, but I didn’t bother telling my father, since he had run out on us.

She and our mother had a huge fight, and all the blame was put on my poor sister. My horrible excuse for a mother ended up throwing her out of the house, as she was disappointed and disgusted that she had gotten pregnant.

But the thing she didn’t know is that it wasn’t her fault. It takes two to make a child and the blame goes to Caiden, while my sister is the victim. But my mother wouldn’t know that, since Caiden never owned up to the truth. Since usually it’s always the woman to be blamed, to be insulted and tormented for something that wasn’t even her fault. For something that she didn’t even want to happen.

My sister was only twenty when it happened, so horribly young to be in this situation alone. Her whole life was now ruined, all because of that monster. She had no support, and had to use all her savings to afford an apartment of her own. I was helpless to do anything for her.

You want to know the worst part of it all?

My sister had ended up killing herself a few months later.

Word must have gotten out around the town, since it was a horribly small town where secrets were usually out in the open.

People immediately jumped down her throat and tormented her, saying how irresponsible she was, insulting her with horribly cruel names like a prostitute and such. They accused and beat on her without even knowing the full story, they heard what Caiden had to say and immediately believed him. They didn’t even bother to ask her what happened, or how she feels.

Once people hear one side of the story, they don’t bother with the second side.

She had ended up slowly losing hope. She became depressed, angry and humiliated. People were accusing her and calling her names, she started to believe what they were saying, she started to believe she was all those things.

She felt hopeless about her life. She had nothing and was terrified of raising a baby.

They didn’t do anything to Caiden though, he made them think he was the victim. He didn’t do anything to stop them from harassing my sister, just like the cruel sicko’ he is.

My sister had ended up over dosing on pills not long after it all happened. I was the one that found her body, lying still on her bed. Her body that was once full of energy was unmoving, her sparkling blue eyes that always had light were now dull and lifeless. Her once warm skin was cold and depressing.

It hurt to see that I’d never be able to see or talk to her again. She was gone, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had lost again.

After her death, people had started pitying her, saying how she was too young, saying how brilliant she was, saying how she didn’t deserve it. They completely ignored the fact that they drove her towards death with their actions and words. They pretended that what they did never happened. It’s horrible how people will drive someone towards suicide. But once it happens, they feel sorry and change their perspective towards the person.

The thing is though, Caiden didn’t even apologize, or come to the funeral. In fact, he pretended it never even happened. He cared too much about his pride and trying to win to accept what he did and to own up to his mistakes. He was too narcissistic to admit his doings and to beg for forgiveness.

The way he reacted towards her death, and how he acted as if it was nothing made me horribly angry. 

I had finally snapped. All I could think about was revenge and giving Caiden a piece of his own medicine. I wanted him to feel the same pain as I did, I wanted him to pay.

My sister dying was the last straw for me because in my mind; it was all his fault.

That was when the inferno started. The fire that fueled my hate grew larger and stronger until I couldn’t control it. It wasn’t like before where I could say I hate him but still care.

This was when my hate grew real. I wanted to avenge my sister. So, I did the best thing I could think of since he didn’t have any siblings.

I slept with his best friend, knowing that he was the closest person to Caiden.

That made him furious, especially since Caiden found me with him, just like I found him with my sister. I could see the betrayal and anger on his face, I could almost feel the pain radiating of him. I could feel myself grow proud of his reaction.

He had yelled at him out of anger and hurt, saying cruel things like “how could you sleep with that thing” while I was in the same room and it hurt me because I’m not even a human to him. Apparently, I’m a ‘thing.’

All I could do was sit there and watch as everything unfolds, not feeling a single ounce of pity towards him.

They had then started throwing punches as things got intense, but they finally stopped when I broke them apart, because I had a feeling if I didn’t, someone was going to get badly hurt. I wasn’t that cruel to let someone get hurt or die.

After that whole fiasco, their friendship became rough and broken; then finally fell apart all together. I’m happy to say that I got my revenge. But things got more intense and fiery between us, he started blaming me for his lost friendship.

Though I think he’s being childish, at least his friend is still alive when my sister is dead because of his actions.

He didn’t care, all that mattered to him was that I had just ruined the one good relationship he had with someone. I knew that he was going to lose control and let his anger consume him, and that started scaring me. I knew things would get ugly when he lost control of his actions.

I was walking out of school one day after my last class had ended when he had snuck up on me and pulled me to a secluded corner. I tried to fight him off, but it didn’t work. He overpowered me. I could see the anger on his face, the crazed look in his eyes.

He had punched me, and it hurt like hell. He didn’t stop there though, he punched and kicked me until I was black and blue.

He then left me there, curled up on the cold, hard ground, aching everywhere. Luckily, someone had found me and asked what had happened. I lied to them, and they believed me. They had brought me to the hospital to get bandages, but luckily no fatal injuries or broken bones.

Caiden never said sorry though, not that I expected him to.

I had gone back to school a couple days later after resting and healing from the bruises. People were staring at me, judging me with their eyes, whispering when they thought I wasn’t looking or listening. 

It got me curious.

My unasked questions were soon answered when somebody insulted me; accusing me of being a whore. I knew why. For it had been obvious what had happened.

I knew Caiden must’ve told everyone what I did, but twisted it to make him the victim, just like he always does. I then realized that this was part of his revenge as well.

It was like what was happening with my sister happened all over again, but I didn’t do what she did. I didn’t let those fools control me, I didn’t do what they wanted.

I didn’t kill myself.

I dealt with it and just dismissed the insults, knowing the truth. But that didn’t work, because I still felt hurt. I still felt the guilt and regret for what I had done, because unlike Caiden, I was a caring person, and what I did wasn’t me. I wasn’t myself at that moment, because all that was on my mind was avenging my dead sister. My mind was consumed with hatred for Caiden, and it got the better of me.

The thing that got me through was knowing that it was my senior year, and I’d be gone when it was over. I’d never have to see those imbeciles again. I wouldn’t let the situation overwhelm and control me.

Caiden went on with life not caring about me, not caring what he did to me. His harassment went all the way until the end of high school, and I thought he would have the decency to at least apologize to me, but he didn’t.

He didn’t even look back. After graduation he left, and I never heard of him after that. He vanished out of my life without a word. I was happy, better yet thrilled. But, I felt something also. Something close to disappointment or sadness. I didn’t know what would cause this, so I just told myself that I was disappointed that Caiden didn’t even say goodbye or anything.

I told myself I was hurting because he acted like I was nothing to him, which I know deep down that it was true. He was simply gone. I had hoped that I would get closure, or that he would apologize. I hoped that maybe he would turn things around and take the blame.

I got over it. But, one thing I did know is that karma exists, and one day;

Someday;

He would get what’s coming to him. One day, he will feel the same pain and hurt as I did. When that happens; I will finally be at peace. I will finally be content, knowing that for once he didn’t win, and that he endured the same feelings as I did.

One last thing I can say is that if we ever do cross paths again, and if he does have a sudden change of heart, nothing he does or say will ever make me forgive him. The things that he had done is unforgivable. Therefore, my consuming hate will never fade, even after I die, because just like love;

Hate lasts an eternity.