We sat on the back of your green pickup truck. You laid out the checkered blankets, and we cuddled as the wind picked up and swept the leaves from the lush trees grew tall after that bitter winter frost. We were sober, and our stomachs were churning with coffee and anger. You tilted your head back and stroked your hair. You sighed and answered tersely, “Hate.” Your eyes shifted from the stars to the ground and continued, “I do not think I need to explain that after what we saw at the diner.” “I do not understand how a parent could do that to a child. It is one to discipline them, but to scream at them? To hurl stones of insults at their young faces? It is too difficult to fathom.” “I do not care if the child was being a brat; you rectify the situation in a calm manner. That woman does not even deserve a child. That poor innocent child. Why would you even inflict such wickedness?” …show more content…
I think hate challenges us to love each other more strongly because it functions as a barrier to divide us. The stronger we stand, the more our resistance negates the hate. But why fear it?” “I fear the hatred inflicted upon any child that experiences the neglect and torment I suffered.” I dared not to ask any more questions about your tragic past. You began trembling; your hands started shaking, your fingers grew numb from the coldness, and your face grew rigid. But you proceeded to turn the question to me. “What is your fear?” “Emptiness,” I responded a bit too quickly. “No, that is not the right word. Hollowness? Being devoid of meaning? I cannot phrase it into the right words. I