Melinda

No Fury Like A Woman Scorned

How can you hate someone and yet love them at the same time? I hate him. I hate, hate, HATE him! He used me for his own advantage and then dumped me for the next best thing when it came along. When she came along. I want to kill him, to hurt him more than I've ever wanted to hurt anyone. I want him to scream at him and hit him and have him writhing in agony at my feet, begging for mercy before I deliver the final blow. And yet...at the same time I want him to kiss me and hold, to stroke my hair, to make me feel special and beautiful. For him to be the way he is with her. Does he know that every time he calls her beautiful it's like a knife to my heart, that it makes me hate him more but at the same time makes me want him as well? I don't even know what it is about him that gets to me; I mean sure he's good looking and funny and brave, and maybe I can see a part of him that reminds me of myself. But why this endless yearning, this endless longing for something I can't have? Though I suppose, even as a child, not being allowed something only made me want it more.

Maybe I'm not in love with him, maybe I just want him because I can't have him. I've always liked to get what I want. My parents found that out the hard way. All I wanted was their attention, maybe a little love or affection, perhaps? Was that too much to ask? They didn't give a shit. When they were a) actually home and b) bothering to talk to me it was always to nag or compare me to my brother. My perfect, hardworking brother. Idiot. Who gives a shit about education? I was already ruling the school. Every boy wanted me, every girl envied me, everyone feared me. It was perfect. Even the teachers were scared of me; they soon learnt not to ask for late coursework. But I'm a smart girl; I would almost always get almost top marks in exams. And even if I didn't, who cares? Who needs brains when you have beauty? I know I'm pretty- no, I lie- I know I'm beautiful. You can get a lot of people, especially boys, to do things for you when you look like I do. I know that now some people call me names like slut and whore and skank, but do you want to know the funny thing? I've never kissed more than two boys in my life. Sure I flirt, sure I can wind them around my little finger, but I never dated them. They were just an unnecessary distraction. Until I met him, anyway. There was a connection between us. We were going to rule together, side by side. I never even properly kissed him when I had the chance, more fool me. I just pecked him on the cheek a couple of times. He made me feel timid, although I'd never show it. Of course, the minute he chucked me aside and got together with her they were all over each other. And they call me the slut? I wonder if he left me because I never kissed him. Was it because he could sense that underneath all the cruelty and the hate I was shy and scared and longing for a little love? Was that why he ran?

And as for her...well. Where can I even begin. I hate her even more than I hate him, if that's even humanely possible. She stole him. The minute he set eyes on her I lost him. It's her fault I'm dead too, her fault that I 'poofed' as they call it. I would have fought it for him. I would have stayed for him. But he was gone. So when the world froze the moment turned 15 and he stepped from midair, held out his arms and told me he loved me, I didn't ask too many questions. I just threw myself into his arms and kissed him. And then there was only darkness and agony. The last thing I saw was her pale face, staring at me through the blackness. I have never felt such burning hate in that moment as I did in that moment. It was hate that bought me back. And hate which motivates me now.

But it's funny, because somehow I feel a...connection too her. She's like a younger version of me. She's the girl I could have been if maybe, just maybe, Zeb Cray had loved me instead.

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