Hate

Hate  

Chapter 1

You don't have to tell me. Hate is such an ugly word. Not just the meaning, but even the arrangement of the letters themselves. It's also a widely abused term. We say such things as, I hate Korean food, I hate baggy pants, I hate the color orange, or even, I hate Mondays, but these aren't hates, they're dislikes. To hate something... no, that's wrong. To hate someone, to REALLY hate someone, you have to have loved them first, and like as not, still love them. They have to have crushed your heart, possibly in spectacular fashion, for you to really hate them. Add to that fact, that hate (I have discovered) is simply love, magnified. You think that term is incompatible, don't you? Bear with me. When you love someone, you can love them completely. Am I correct? Blow me! You KNOW I'm right. BUT, when you hate someone, it can become an all encompassing emotion that wraps you so completely in its cold embrace, that little else in life seems to matter. Your ONLY desire is to even the score. To crush the object of your hate in a manner that makes what they did to you seem irrelevant. Am I close? Denial is a petty attempt at dishonesty. Deep down, even if you're ashamed to admit it, you know it to be true.

So, having gotten that out of the way, who is it that I hate? Who is it that I love so completely, that I want to go biblical and have them turned into a pillar of salt?

Patricia... that's her name. Medium height, incredible figure and hair so black it would look divine on an Egyptian Goddess.

My name is Kate...