[short story] love is a strong word, but hate is even stronger.

SHE HATED HER.

it hadn't started when she was born or even when she became old enough to realize what filth the world actually contained. but it rather began when she had simply had enough. it started to take more of a toll on her than ever; her social life, her home life, and her innerself were all rupturing before she could put the pieces back together [or so that's what it felt]. she could no longer hold in the emotions that she'd kept locked in her for so long. it was a REVOLT.

"dumb bitch," she muttered to herself, or so she thought she had. but it came out to be louder than it was meant to.

"what the hell did you just say to me?" her mother was not one to tolerate backtalk or anything of the sort, and she defenitely would not put up with being called out of her name by her own children.

"answer me, girl. what the hell did you just say to me?"

"nothing, i said nothing." she was more scared than she had ever been. it amazed, yet frightened, her that she had even allowed her lips to utter such things in the presence of this woman.


but this was only the first of the outbreaks. the second had been the worst of the two. the second had been the time when she finally let go - all of the previous anger and hidden sadness that was built up was finally released.

"im tired of your shit." she had said it, but this time with confidence and no leftover weight on her conscience.

"what?" the middle-aged woman exclaimed.

"i said," she announced with great inflection in her voice, "i'm tired of your shit. i'm tired of you. i'm sick of the way that you treat me; you obviously don't love me so don't try to say that you do. i hate living this way, here, with you. i cant stand your bitchy attitudes and the way you talk to me like i'll just forget that this even happened. i just only wish that you could spend a day in my shoes and see how this really makes me feel. your actions don't only affect you and though i doubt you'll ever understand it, they really affect me too. "

"you think i care that you don't like me?" the woman exclaimed yet again.

"it's not enough to say that i don't like you, but i think i'm actually beginning to hate you."

she felt better than she ever had. she didn't exactly feel great for lessening her mother's worth, - but then again, her mother had done that enough herself with those late nights and early mornings - but she did feel good for standing up for herself. she felt like she'd be okay for a short period of time. but that was before it hit her . . literally.

a huge sting lingered on her brown cheek. the slap hit her so hard that she loss the proud feeling she had just had a few moments ago.

"you hate me?" her mother's expression wasn't an angry one, but more of a sad one.

the teenage girl just stared upon her mother's brown, round face. she was no longer proud, or scared. she was now regretful. what had she said? had that been the right way to word her feelings?

she hadn't meant to hurt her mother or sadden her with doubts of her child's love for her. she had only meant to make her feel the same way she felt everyday. but that's when she realized . .
that was exactly how she felt. and as much as it pained her to admit it, she had lost faith that the mother she wished for would ever come back.

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this is my first short story that has been posted on blogger.
please leave your comments; tell me how i can improve my writing && included what my strongpoints are.
&& also, just tell me if you liked it ! (: