I Hate You, But I MIss You

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: June 13, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 13, 2017



We'd had a fight, our third one this week. What makes this one different from all the ones we've ever had? Aside from the fact we always fight?

The fact that you went too far this time. You bullied and criticized me and pushed me around. You tried to hide behind "Oh, I'm just playing". But for every 'I'm just playing', there's truth at the heart of it.

I'd tried, I really tried to impress you, but in the end I always end up regretting it and hating myself for it. Why do I try? So this time I decided I'd had enough. 

The next time you deliberately push past me when there was no reason for it, and make me drop our plates of food on the floor, then have the audacity to call me a klutz? You were gonna get it, somehow someway, but it ends tonight.

I thought about burning you in the face with hot cooking oil, or use a steak knife and shank you like they do in the prison movies. They were thoughts, I amused myself with ( a little dark-even for me, yes I know). It made me happy in that moment, that even if I took you down for the moment, I would put one foot atop your chest, while I puff mine out as far as I could and claim victory.

I was in the kitchen, where most of our fights begin. You came in to see what I was doing.

Cooking! What does it look like? I thought to myself. You always start off like that, and so I brace myself for anything.Cause with you, I've come to learn anything goes.You're scrutinizing how high I have the back burner on our stove set on, then tell me I'm burning our food. I assure you I'm not. I know what I'm doing.

You don't like when I speak back and give me an incredulous look. You look over everything I have cooking on the stove top. With a look of utter disgust you scrunch up your nose and shake your head as you turn to look at me.

"I'm not gonna eat this shit! Are you trying to make me sick? It's not cooked right" you tell me. You turn to leave muttering under your breath how you guess you're gonna go to sleep hungry again, and if you want something done right you would have to do it yourself.

Oh that was it, I didn't deserve that. You could have simply said you weren't that hungry, instead of starting me in the kitchen in the first place. I turned everything off that was slowly boiling and walked out past you.

You pulled me back by the arm hard. Anger took over and I swung around and slapped you. Rage took over your instincts and you swung back at me. I dodged and ran. You chased me around the dining room table. My eyes quickly scanned everything in sight hoping I could use it as a possible weapon.Nothing.

I dashed back into the kitchen, knowing you could corner me. You did and wrestled me for the fillet knife I held in my hand. We struggled, I wasn't giving up without a fight. But you swung at me, had pushed me down, the fight in me quickly vanished as I cowered in the corner with my arms trying to protect my head, as I waited to get belted some more. My eyes squinted tightly closed.Then something happened.

Silence. I dared to peek with one eye, and lowered my arms, as I pushed myself off the floor. You had slipped and fell, impaling yourself with the knife you'd just forced from my small hands.

You laid there, life quickly leaving you as I stood over you watching your blood run...run all over the place. Curious,I cocked my head to the side as I watched you bleed. Did you still feel it? Did it hurt you bastard? I hope so.

 I jumped into action and picked up your hands and began to drag you out the kitchen door that led outback into the yard.Gosh you were a heavy sucker to drag and pull. I scanned the yard with my hands on my hips. A shovel, and a pack of smokes with a spec lighter hiding inside the mashed up box with them. I grabbed them both.

Don't ask me how I did it, cause I'm really not sure myself. But I dragged your body deep into the woods, stopping frequently to take deep breaths then continue while carrying the shovel. I paid no heed to the boulders your head bumped against while I pulled you over them. Your head lolled to the side, as I came to a stop. You're eyes popped open and seem to stare at me.I shook my head back at you.

Picking up the shovel, I shoved it into the ground as deep as I could and leaned my weight on it.

"You really shouldn't be staring at me like I'm at fault, when you brought this on yourself. Serves you right for picking on smaller people". I set to work digging up earth.

" Look at what you have me doing...still yet for you.You're not worth the money to spend for a funeral and flowers and fake cries of I'll miss you, cause I wouldn't. So I don't mind doing this for you really, just one last time".

Thunderous clouds grumbled over me, threatening to open up the rain on me. Yeah, I was gonna go to hell for sure for this.But I was sending you first,  could you be a sweetheart for a change and save me a seat?

Lightning flashed, warning me one last time.But I was almost done. I'd dug deep enough, as far as I was willing to go for you. I rolled your body over and over until you dropped into the hiding place I made for you. I could feel small pelts of rain on my skin. I set to work filling the hole again, a little faster this time. 

 Break time, last one. I pulled out one of your ciggy-weed rolls and lit it up.Taking it to my lips, I inhaled and right away began to cough. How the hell do people do this shit without coughing up their guts? I scrunched up my face and threw the cigarrette pack with everything in it into the hole with you. Then finished covering it up.

I walked back to the house, shovel in tow and leaned it next to the door. My work wasn't done. I still had the kitchen to clean up. Man, this was turning into more work than you were worth. (Sigh) when I surveyed the mess, I went to get the bleach, bucket with water and mop. Then when I was done there, I tossed everything I'd been cooking earlier. I cleaned myself up with the hottest shower I could stand.

When I crawled into my bed, I pulled up the blankets to my chin and nodded off quickly.


Weeks went by, I'd adjusted to you being gone. I'd convinced myself you'd walked out on me. It was for the best, you just weren't good for me. You were detrimental to my health and well being. Toxic even, I'm glad you were gone.No one even asked for you. 

But then something sucky started to happen. I started to miss you. How the hell could that be? I hated you, you were mean and hateful to me. But then I started to feel bad, I hadn't even left any flowers for you.

So I set back into the woods after returning from the market and treating myself to a bouquet of wild flowers that smelled oh so pretty. Flowers you never bought me.

 I decided when I began my descent into the woods, I wouldn't give you all of them. No, they were too pretty to part with, for such a hateful person. But I would give you a few of them.

I wandered the forest for a long time. Damn where were you? I'd already forgotten where I'd buried you. I gave up and dropped the flowers and walked back home with a heavy heart. I meant well. Little did I realize that the tree I had dropped the flowers under, was where you were buried right under as well.


I woke up to you shaking me like Shrek woke Fiona and yelling in my ear.

 "Can you hear me? I said I bought you flowers, now will you go make me breakfast".

Damn all of it was a dream.



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