Creative Writing

'Hate'

   ‘Love is a power to be acknowledged with a right mind’. Something a philosopher might say with a straight face. Though he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t say anything remotely similar to that. So he didn’t. Though he did say, for absolutely no reason, “Hate is a power to be acknowledged with any mind.”

    With all due respect to whoever that philosopher was, Adam found that love wasn’t much of a power to be interested in. Sure, all heroes in stories fight for justice and love. Perhaps, true love knows no league. Perhaps in the end, people get their happily ever after. Though Adam? He thought otherwise. 

    The year he joined primary school, his mother was killed, her face so mangled, it took a week to identify. 

             The month after that, his father hung from the ceiling, swinging like a pendulum on a grandfather clock. 

             The day he left university, his aunt was stabbed, her crimson blood painting the walls in the alley; and Adam was left. Alone in this world. 

    From carer to lover he switched and moved. Alone. Alone. Alone in this world. Adam would chant nearly every single day. Alone. Alone. Alone in this world.

             He stared at the twin graves, and the grave just a few stones away. A bouquet in his hands, he stared at their names. His mother's strict teachings, yet tasty meals. His father's gravelly voice, scratchy in the mornings. His aunt's tight hugs, warm smiles each day. Tears falling, and memories knocking on his heart's door.

    Some may understand why Adam hated love. Or did hate love him? Or did love hate him? Left in the dark, no one to guide him. He was at the edge, the populace ignoring him, watching as the wind blew, pushing him further. 

    He stared at the set as the villain was murdered, poisoned, stabbed. He would watch as justice was brought and love was founded: but Adam couldn’t say, that love was acknowledged by those with a right mind. Because his parents and his aunt were gone. Did their killers acknowledge love with a right mind? Did they just happen to kill them, and a day passed by? 

Love couldn’t be acknowledged with a right mind, when so many minds were wrong, and twisted and gone. Hate? Hate could be acknowledged with any kind of mind. A wrong one, a right one, a twisted one, a focused one. 

So Adam whispered to the darkness when his shadow seemed to grow, “Hate, I acknowledge you, since Love disregarded me, and I’m left alone. Alone. Alone in this world.”