You may not realize this, but everyone you hate hates you back just as much. Only, you do realize this and it's something you've known for quite some time now. You try not to let it bother you but it more than bothers you, it nearly destroys you and they are all aware of this. You try to hide it because the more aware they are, you know, the more they will try to abuse the fact. But that doesn't matter to you at the moment because you've been counting down the weeks, days, hours, minutes it's been since you last woke up in a pool of your own blood, unable to save yourself from drowning because of your broken bones. You've done the math and the counting and the waiting and you know that any minute now, it will be time to relive your life story over again.
You wait in the kitchen, bracing yourself for what is about to come. Endlessly, you drum your fingers on the counter and stare at the floor, trying to pass the time. You can't help but wonder just what it could be to have pissed him off this time around. Immediately, you blame yourself and your hatred for the world and understand that at some point in time you did something wrong and you had this coming to you. You purse your lips, hoping that it will serve as a proper reproach for whatever it was that you did but cannot think of.
You don't flinch as the door flies open, nearly rocking off its hinges. You don't even look up as he stumbles through the living room, bottle in hand, pipe in the other. Though you hear him cursing your name, you pay no heed to it, though you finally lock your gaze on him. This has become a routine for you and you have learned it well.
You may not realize this, but he will have no remorse for what he's about to do to you. Only, you do realize this and you've finally stopped wasting your time with the useless task of caring.
Usually you greet him with a sneer of disgust, but now you can't even manage that. This time you greet him with a hollow, empty frown, showing that you no longer care for this life you've lived. And this only infuriates him. You do not jump as he throws the bottle to the ground and as he stomps towards you; you only stand, the same way you have for the past hour. You cringe slightly from the smell of the alcohol that has suddenly filled the air just as he closes in enough to get a firm grasp around your neck. As he throws you across the room and against the cabinets, he questions why you won't respond to anything thing he says. And this only infuriates him more.
Suddenly, as you are being tossed against every hard surface in the room, your mind trails back to the one and only thing that ever gave you happiness in your life. You can't help but think of him fondly and appreciate the memory of his face at a time like this. A bit of sadness overtakes you for the loss of what might have been and mostly what never was. Though, none of that matters because she was always there to get in the way. You choke back the tears, not because your ribs are breaking, but because she stole away your one chance at real happiness. Finally, you give in and smother in the sorrow of all the things you could have given him that she can't. But who are you kidding? He was never yours to lose, you remind yourself and then command yourself to get over it. But you can't get over it, not that easily.
You may not realize this, but you could've spent your entire life with him if you hadn't missed your chance. Only, you do realize this and you continue to show your weakness by allowing yourself to cry over this.
You listen as he laughs at you, finally noticing your tears. Only, he does not realize that he is not the cause. He mocks your quiet sobbing with a chuckle of his own. Pleased with this, he lifts you by the collar of your already tattered shirt at takes aim for your head. Already, you can taste the blood coming from your mouth and you can feel your right eye swelling shut but you have not taken into account just how much damage he's done otherwise. With a change of plans, he drops you to the floor in a crumpled heap. Confused by this, you start to sit up and glance up at him through blurred vision. The only thing you notice is his dark, malicious smile before the pipe hits the side of your head. It doesn't kill you, like you hoped it would, and this displeases you. Instead you wince as you fall over and your head bounces off the floor. This also displeases him as well. To finish you off, he draws back his foot and implants it into your stomach. You cannot quite make out what he's saying to you but you know he's disgracing your name and the lousy fight that you refused to put up. Your head spins as your vision slowly starts to go black and the last thing you see are his feet walking away.
Just like you predicted, you were once again, drowning in your own blood, a shaking mess. You have no strength to get up and you figure that every bone in your body is broken. You continue to shake as you gather your last thoughts and take your last breaths. Quickly, you realize that no one will come for you, that no one will probably even take notice that you are dead and gone. You question yourself why they would even bother because they never had before. You come to the dark, cruel conclusion that you are alone and that it's over; it's far too late for you.
No one will be there to save you.
Only, this is what you've always wanted and you are happy that you no longer are forced to live your awful life.
You may not realize this, but the world hates you back. You may not realize this, but had you been buried, no one would have come to your funeral. Only, you don't realize this because it is too late for you now and your mind is dark and your body is cold.