Disclaimer: Of course, all of this comes from Harper Lee!
A/N: I hope it isn't too evident that I am feeling so burnt out from schoolwork that I would write just about anything.
-o-o-o-
Jean Louise Finch hated everyone. She didn't used to be this way, but one day something in her snapped and she found herself full of hatred. In hindsight, she supposed the hatred began the day her brother died.
Perhaps she could be deemed the bitterest woman in both New York and Alabama. She was brash and sometimes spiteful, not hiding anything that was on her mind and not caring who she gave a snide comment to. There were very few people whom she could actually say she loved these days.
Maybe she'd be different if she had her mother. Her real mother, not some housemaid (who abandoned her, too) or her aunt (who had good intentions but was annoying as hell). Maybe if her mother had lived she'd be more loving. Maybe if her father hadn't betrayed her, if Hank hadn't wrenched a knife so deeply into her back, if Dill hadn't just gone away, if Jem hadn't died, maybe then she'd be different. Maybe then she'd be the perfect little lady everyone expected her to be.
As she grew up, she noticed her female acquaintances always talking about how they wanted to marry a man just like their daddies. While Jean Louise adored her father (almost to the point where it seemed like she worshipped him), she found that she didn't want to marry a man like Atticus Finch. Well, in all honesty she didn't want to get married at all—she was no one's property but her own and found that the ideas of monogamy and settling down were plain stupid. But, if she were to get married she wanted to marry a man like Jem.
She wasn't entirely sure why she would want to marry a man like Jem. He was often annoying, very stubborn, and caused her a significant amount of grief throughout her twenty-seven years of life.
Yet, he was the most important thing she had.
Yes, Jem caused her pain like older brothers did. He was overprotective, always wanting to know what she was getting herself into. He was sometimes moody and distant, and during his adolescence wanted nearly nothing to do with his younger sister. But at the same time he cared for her fiercely. As she got older and more logical she figured that his overprotectiveness was the product of unconditional love. He was annoying because he cared about her. And now he was gone—who was to care for Jean Louise Finch?
She went on dates. Lots of dates. With actors and poets and engineers and businessmen and anyone who found her attractive. She took men home with her and let them inside and spent the night with them, searching for someone to love, but as she grew older she found herself filling with hatred rather than love. She hated these men because they weren't enough, they were never enough. They called her pretty and admired her intelligence, but they treated her like an object and just wanted her so they could domesticize her and make her their object. They didn't respect her, they didn't care that she just wanted to be free.
So then, she looked for friendship. Maybe looking for a romantic interest was wrong because obviously her and her brother did not love each other that way. She wanted someone to fill the void that Jeremy left, the void that only a brother could fill. She looked for friends in the shops and libraries and anywhere where there was people, but again she failed. She simply hated everyone.
Maybe it was because unlike Jem, they didn't have a lion's heart. They weren't brave or willing to risk their lives for her. They weren't willing to discuss politics, books, art, the news or anything that women usually remained quiet about with her. They weren't brave enough to tell her when she was wrong, and treated her like a child. They weren't Jem. And she hated them.
At twenty-seven years old, she didn't think she'd be so damn alone. She was empty, a shell of the person she used to be yet she didn't even know who she used to be because that girl disappeared the moment Jem died, never to come back again. At her loneliest moments, she'd think about how her life had once been so full of people only for them to leave her.
The loss that hurt most of all, besides that of Atticus, was Jem. Maybe it was because he left too soon, left before he was supposed to. From the time she was nine she always thought her brother had a lion's heart—a heart of bravery and dignity that could withstand any challenge and conflict. Yet, it couldn't survive the damn defect carried on from their mother. And for that she hated her mother, a woman she never got to know, because she took her brother away from her.
Jem had always been her hero. To her, he was always so knowledgeable and experienced and could do no wrong. He always did and said what was right, even if it came off as slightly offensive to others. He had molded himself to be like their father, righteous and courageous. Except Jem was different. He wouldn't have betrayed her like Atticus did, wouldn't have gone to those meetings and said those toxic things—he would fight for what was right, fight for those who were unable to fight for themselves. If only he had lived.
The ultimate act of sacrifice and love was when Jem saved her from Bob Ewell when she was nine. He almost lost his life, almost couldn't play football anymore, and would have nightmares for the rest of his life. He could've ran, could've left her alone while he gotten help, but he didn't. He didn't because she was in danger and there was no way in hell he was going to let anyone get to her. That wasn't the only thing he did for her. He threatened to beat up anyone who bothered her, promised to take care of her whenever she was in any sort of danger, and offered his unconditional support for her no matter what, but also always let her know when she was wrong. Who was going to do that now?
Since her last trip home to Maycomb, the trip where she realized how truly and desperately alone she was, she realized that no one could be like Jem. She realized his heart, his lion's heart, was given to him and him alone. For being so strong, his heart had been so weak at the same time. And now he was gone, lost, and the world lost the only truly righteous man it ever had. And she hated everyone for not knowing him, not knowing what true bravery was.
As the years passed since Jem's death, she did many things to fill the void. Originally, it began with calling and writing Atticus more, being nicer to Hank, trying to think about Dill and Cal and where he might be. She would call Miss Maudie before her passing and talk about childhood, talk about Jem, talk about life in general. It worked, at first, but it only superficially filled the void. Once it was evident that all of these people had left her life, too, she tried other things. She tried drinking (she wasn't very good at it), journaling (she thought it was stupid), reading books he would've liked (but who did she have to talk about them?), and attempted to meet new people—people to fill his void. But of course, they never did.
Maybe she'd become like Mrs. Dubose, a bitter old woman (despite the fact that she was hardly old) who intimidated everyone around her. She reckoned she would like that very much. She would be able to fully be herself, and show the world just how much she hated them. She would no longer smile in public and be polite to strangers on the busses or in the streets. She would look as cold as she felt, as bitter as she felt, and maybe then she'd feel good because then she wouldn't have to hide anymore. She wouldn't have to hide her feelings of hatred and bitterness.
But, maybe Mrs. Dubose wasn't hateful. Maybe she was hurt. So desperately hurt because everyone she loved left her behind and there she remained, old and angry until her dying day. Maybe she loved someone, someone with a lion's heart, and they left her before they were supposed to, leaving her alone for years and years and years.
It made Jean Louise feel better to think that maybe she and Mrs. Dubose were just hateful, not hurt. Because if they were hurt, that would mean they loved these people. And Jean Louise hated everyone.
She hated her mother for dying. She hated Cal for abandoning her and Atticus for betraying her. She hated Dill for disappearing, apparently forgetting their friendship. She hated Hank for being so goddamn stupid and spiteful and wrong. She hated her Uncle Jack for being right. She hated Aunt Alexandra just because she could. She hated Jem for dying.
Perhaps she hated them all so much because she loved them. Loved them so much it tore her apart inside and she couldn't even comprehend the fact that they were no longer there, no longer the people they used to or promised to be. They left her alone, yet despite the fact that she was alone and hurt and angry and sad and bitter, she still loved them with her entire heart. She loved them so much she thought it would break her.
And yet, she still hated them just as she hated everyone else. She hated them because they showed her just how painful and risky loving someone could be.