You can look into his eyes and tell yourself he's not human. You could justify his actions and words, but never try to see past the mask. A mask is all it is, you see; the mask of a vulnerable young man who hates the world. This is why you hate him. This is why you do not understand.
Anger. Hatred. Fear. The pupils close.
Happiness. Laughter. Affection. The pupils open.
He appears hostile and standoffish. He doesn't want you to know just how empty he is inside. When he tries to stay away, you accuse him. Pointing your fingers at his back when he turns, you exile him to the part of your heart reserved for enemies.
He is the enemy, he is the enemy. It has become your daily obsession. But doubt plagues you. Why does he run, when he never has before?
Why?
The answer evades you.
Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait, and the disappointingly short chapter. I know it's short (only about a hundred words. Crazy, I know) but I promise it will go somewhere with this. Think of it as a sort of foreshadowing. Who is it talking about? Why is it in second person? Who is the one who hates this unknown person so?
Tell me in a review.
xoxo
~Song