Chapter 29 - Aiden

Chapter 29 – Aiden

I hate Thia.

I don't understand her. I don't get what she's thinking. I don't get the words she's saying. I hate how everyone treats her. I try to be nice. But I don't know how. I hate how I treat her, too. But she just keeps going on no matter what happens. And I hate that the most. She’s always alone. It must hurt. It must feel so terrible when everyone’s looking at you like there's something wrong with you.

It must hurt so much when the whole world is against you. When nobody understands you. When nobody asks what you're going through. When not a single person looks your way even though you're trying so fucking hard every day to be somebody that's worth caring about. But nobody cares. And they laugh at you. And they call you names behind your back. And they think their words are just words, but they're not.

They’re not.

And even when you put up a face of not caring. And even when you roll with the punches, it still hurts. It hurts somewhere you can’t see. It hurts somewhere maybe you don't even feel. But the hurt builds up. And it makes you mean. And it makes you hurt people. It makes you hurt people just to try and make your own hurt go away. Like you can transfer the hurt that's built up deep inside you over to somebody else. But it doesn't work. It just makes you hate yourself even more. Just carves that anger into your very being. Makes you hate yourself. And hate the world that made you hate yourself. And hate everyone in it—everyone that manages to live their perfect lives. Their normal lives. Without any of that hurt. Without any of the hate that you've had to live with for your entire life. It’s not fair.

It's not fair.

It’s not fair. So you want to tear it all down. But you're weak. You're pathetic. You’re so fucking pathetic. Even when you scream and rage against the world. Because when you’re screaming and raging at everything that exists in the world, what you're really screaming at is yourself.

Why am I like this? How can I stop? Why does no one care about me? Why won't anybody pull me out of this hell?

And even though you hate and you hate and you hate and you HATE. Even though you hate, you're so pathetic. Because what you want... Deep down… What you want is for someone to take away all that hurt.

All the hurt that's buried so deep that you can't reach it yourself. All the hurt that others have caused. And all the hurt that you've caused yourself.

You're so pathetic.

Because after all of this screaming and raging and hurting...

In the end... all you want is to be loved.

And I'm so jealous of you, Thia.

That's why I hate you.

Because I see all the things that have happened to you. And I know how much it all must have hurt. And if I were in your shoes, I would have broke. I would have broken ages ago. I would have broken from all the loss. All the torment. All the bullying. All the ‘pranks’. All the terrible words said to your face. Not even behind your back. Not even spared the courtesy of not knowing the terrible things people are saying about you. Because you're not normal. You're a freak. So people don't have to care about your feelings. Because you 'don't even have feelings’.

But I know it's not true.

I know it hurts.

And I know you get upset.

Because you're just like me.

Because I've been watching you all this time.

And that's why I'm so jealous of you, Thia.

Because you have what I've wished for my entire life. And you don't even know it.

You have people who care. That truly, genuinely care about you from the bottom of their hearts. People that see you. The real you. People that know everything about you. That will protect you from hurt. That will heal all the pain before it has a chance to build and rot and fester.

People that love you. And people that try to understand you even when you're incomprehensible. People who will give everything for you to be happy.

And you don't even know it.

You don't even appreciate how rare that is. How completely. Utterly. Rare that is.

You don't even know.

You don’t even know.

You don’t even know how badly...

How so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so badly I wish I were you.

And that’s why I hate you.

I hate you because you can speak your mind. I hate you because everything you say is the truth that comes straight from your heart. I hate you because your brain is wired upside down. And backwards. And left-side right. And nothing about you makes sense. I hate you because you're too good for this world. I hate you because I hate everyone that's ever caused you pain. Including me. I hate you because you remind me just how much I hate myself. I hate you because you make me feel like I can be like you one day. I hate you because you make me think that one day I'll also find someone who sees me and loves me and cares about me. I hate you because of how much you've lost. I hate you because of how strong you are despite it. I hate you because you give me hope.

I hate you.

I hate everything about you.

And I hate that I'll never be able to say any of this.

Because I'm pathetic.

I hate that I can never find the right things to do or the right words to say.

I hate that I'm like this.

But I stayed up all night thinking of something I can do right. Just one thing. Something so basic that even a pathetic, fucked up, worthless piece of shit failure like me can't mess up.

"Hey, Thia," I called out to the person I hated most in the world. To the one person that I've hurt more than anybody in the world, other than myself.

"It listens," Thia said back with the same blank face she always has. The same pure eyes that always reflect your filthy, fucked up, worthless soul back to you. And the same monotone voice that always says the same few things.

I swallowed.

Even an angry, hurt, hateful, pathetic person like me can do something right. Even if it’s just once.

"I'm sorry. For everything I've done."

"It understands."

And what I hate most... What I hate most is that I think she actually does.