Unmasking True Hate.

That’s it. I can’t stop it this time. I growled as the pain took over my body. The rage fogged my head, shooting my soul out into a ghost-like figure. The string of my existence tethered to the monster that now shredded off layers of clothes and flesh, exposing only tethered skin and bone. The anger seethed over my entire being and gnarly teeth protruded from my mouth. 

There was nothing I could do to stop it. I opened my mouth in silent horror as I watched the monster I become. I toss the kitchen table aside as if it was a feather, breaking me free from the trapped corner in between my family. I tried to yell a warning I watched the beast leap from the seat, jaw snapping open to unhinged it in a demented way. 

Stop, I screamed. The sound was unheard in the vacuum-sealed void that suffocated me.

Even the screams of terror from my family were voiceless. I watched my beast-like form claw at them, my nails cracked from the base to the tip of its elongated bone growth. I was hideous. 

At first, it attacked my grandma, the one who spurred me with her snake-like venom. I was unarmed, unaware that the teeth sunk deep into my skin. The cold-like poison bubbled in my veins and burned the blood away like evaporated water. 

Once the pain set in, I tried to hide it; tried to harness the pain to strengthen me for next time. I wanted to build thicker skin, to create a shield that would stop the lashes from boring deeply into my core. 

However, that wasn’t what unleashed my horrendous creature within. When the snake turned its head to my sister, I couldn’t control it any longer. 

My father pounded his chest like the gorilla he was, proud and unaware of the battle that took place. My swan-like mother froze with practiced grace, aware of the venom’s strike. One she had felt her whole life. My younger brother and sister, who did not know the scars of war as we did, were frozen like a baby doe caught in the headlights of a car. I did not worry for them because they were still young and had a chance to escape. They had avoided the horrors because of my mother’s grace. Although their elder sisters were unable to seek the same refuge, there was no hope to find peace. 

The moment the fangs threatened my sister, the one I shielded for years against the snake’s venom, I knew there was no stopping myself. I could only watch while I tore her apart, limb from limb. The blood and carnage that would change me forever. I could no longer contain the rage, the pain, the suffering. 

I could not stand in the toxicity for one more minute longer. Whatever animal I was before was long gone. The beauty and freedom I beheld were lost in a dark past. There was no humanity, nor was there comprehension. Only hate. 

When the beast finally calmed, allowing my spirit back into its place, I felt regret strike at my heart. 

The snake was clever and fast. It had shed its skin, leaving a fake mold in its place. I was a fool to play into their ploy once more. The shame of my uncontrolled temper from years of anguish was turned against me; my family shunned me away. “How could you think of striking your grandma like that!” 

Was it not only moments ago that she lunged at me first? Was it not her that turned to my sister when she was not satiated? There I am stuck in the perpetual wheel to allow this nightmare to replay over and over again, with no resolve. A groundhog effect to keep me in this revolving hell. 

I stormed away from my shame, growing back my fragile skin and clothes. Again to my naked turtle state where I had to rebuild my shell once more. One day, I promised myself, I won’t break.

Published by

Turan Turnip

I am a writer and creator. This is my website if you want to check it out. https://www.turnippatch.ca/

3 thoughts on “Unmasking True Hate.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s