Battle

Everyone knows about love and hate. One is happiness, flowers, kisses, and joy. The other is rudeness, slaps, punches, and pain. But no one knows Love and Hate. No one knows the battle. Love makes the world go 'round. But Hate is taking over. Can Love and the gods stop Hades and Hate?

4Likes
1Comments
542Views
AA

3. Meet Hate

Hate

I scuffed my feet along the sidewalk, the breeze making me curl into my leather jacket. I stomped home from school, and down Trista Avenue. I smirked as I sat down on Love's porch. Let's make a scene.

Kristyn Myers walked by and shot me a dirty look. Pft. Not like I cared. "Well, well. Hello Hanna." She walked up to me, her boots clomping. "I'm not afraid of you, Myers. Just go home and sing depressing songs to your pet turtle." Kristyn scoffed and turned on her heels. She stormed down the street. I smiled in victory.

Hate: 127

other-stupid-people-who-I-don't-care-about: 0

I looked up when I heard a gasp. "W-what are you doing here?" Love backed away from her porch. I stood up, my vans taking me closer and closer to the wimp. "I'm here to crush your dreams. Go away, Love. You're a failure." Love scrunched up her face. "I don't understand. Everyone hates someone a bit. Right?" Love tried to reason. I felt my blood boil. Yes, but I need to conquer this world to where love never spreads. I snatched the fabric of her light pink top. "Say that again, you worthless piece of trash." I threw her down and proceeded home.

My so-called house was on the edge of the neighborhood. It was a small one-story, surrounded by dead grass and broken flower pots. I unlocked the door, stepping inside. I chucked my backpack at the wall and walked to the kitchen, grabbing a granola bar from the table. Lingering spirits walked to and fro between my basement and the sewing room. They were getting their armor for the war fitted. One rasped to me,"Thank you for letting me get my uniform back." He held up a Nazi-Germany uniform. I simply nodded and walked to the sewing room.

"Number 341." The 'sewing lady', or Ms. Elina, called. A gloomy spirit sauntered over and snatched his English bobby uniform from her. Ms. Elina is a plump spirit, sewing together spirit's old uniforms for wars. I clomped up to her, littering my granola bar's package in front of a California policeman. He growled and accused me of littering. I ignored him.

"Ms. Elina, how many uniforms?" I asked the stressed spirit-woman. "About three hundred." She called out for another spirit. I chucked her three golden drachmas. She snatched them greedily. I smirked and headed over to my room.

It had emerald walls with light grey curtains covering my window. My bed was black and green striped and my working desk was a shiny silver covered with unfinished papers. I shrugged it off and looked out the window. Thoughts wandered in my head.

Can I really do this? Lead an army to victory? Why didn't Hades pick Dislike or Anger? I don't know if I can succeed!

I sighed and lied down on my bed, the sheets wrapping around me. I fell asleep to the thought:

I need to do this.

 

Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...