Just Hate Me and We'll End It Here
I Hate You
Bailey
"I hate you!" I shriek. "Get out, jerk!"
Derrick trips over his feet, landing at her feet. Whoever she is. I send her a scathing look and she steps back, terrified and softly whimpering.
Coward.
"My stuff!" Derrick protests.
"You mean your crap?" I snap. "Don't worry, you'll get it." With that, I slam the door in their faces.
I have so many names running through my mind I should be yelling at them.
Stomping around the apartment, I start gathering his crap. Books, pillows, blankets, clothes, picture frames, and I open the window to the street. "Here!" I see him trudging down the steps, scratching his head. He glances up, hearing my voice. I shove a box out.
His records spill as they reach the bottom, cracking and falling into pieces. I smirk. That feels good. I gather the rest of his belongings. Ignoring his protests and shouts at me, I shove the rest through the large window. "I hope you're happy!" I scream and shut the window.
Looking around at my now pretty trashed apartment, I take a deep breath.
I pull out my cell phone, stepping around the mess to turn on the radio, something that's always somewhat settled me down. Linkin Park starts playing. Too lazy to change it to something even better, I let it play.
Quickly, I send a text to Missy, my best friend. I need a drink.
She replies in minutes. Gerry's Pub?
See you there in ten?
Def.
I snap my phone shut with a slight huff. Grabbing my leather jacket, I put my wallet in my pocket, putting on some old converse, and start outside for the brisk walk, lacking a car.
"I hate you!" I shriek. "Get out, jerk!"
Derrick trips over his feet, landing at her feet. Whoever she is. I send her a scathing look and she steps back, terrified and softly whimpering.
Coward.
"My stuff!" Derrick protests.
"You mean your crap?" I snap. "Don't worry, you'll get it." With that, I slam the door in their faces.
I have so many names running through my mind I should be yelling at them.
Stomping around the apartment, I start gathering his crap. Books, pillows, blankets, clothes, picture frames, and I open the window to the street. "Here!" I see him trudging down the steps, scratching his head. He glances up, hearing my voice. I shove a box out.
His records spill as they reach the bottom, cracking and falling into pieces. I smirk. That feels good. I gather the rest of his belongings. Ignoring his protests and shouts at me, I shove the rest through the large window. "I hope you're happy!" I scream and shut the window.
Looking around at my now pretty trashed apartment, I take a deep breath.
I pull out my cell phone, stepping around the mess to turn on the radio, something that's always somewhat settled me down. Linkin Park starts playing. Too lazy to change it to something even better, I let it play.
Quickly, I send a text to Missy, my best friend. I need a drink.
She replies in minutes. Gerry's Pub?
See you there in ten?
Def.
I snap my phone shut with a slight huff. Grabbing my leather jacket, I put my wallet in my pocket, putting on some old converse, and start outside for the brisk walk, lacking a car.