Loving the Enemy

7-Kyle

Dear no one, I wish I could tell her. Tell her how the sound of her name has always been spoken in vain and how somehow without me knowing it I became chained to her despite my own personal disdain. I want to let her know how she's constantly on my brain but the logical part of me knows to do that would mean I've gone completely insane. So I often refrain and have to take these emotions that I refuse to give any kind of devotion.
-Kyle Everest

Unedited
I don't know why I did that to her.
Wait yes I do. I just don't know why I acted on it again.

Everyone was laughing at her and for some reason, my insides twisted up and wanted to die inside of me. This time it was different. I had somehow gone too far, which is strange because she didn't even look that distraught when I broke her arm, which was totally a freak accident.

Trevor looks shocked as he slowly begins to shake his head at me. "Dude that was so wrong," he's drunk as hell but he's right. But then again she deserved it. The worst part is she doesn't know she does. She gets to walk around feeling like some kind of victim had no idea that she was born the criminal. I've tried to let it go, tried to find a way to let go of my resentment towards her but it just ends up building back up again.

"Since when do you care? Where's Rachel?" I say swallowing down the guilt that's crawling up my throat. Rachel makes me feel good, I don't hate Rachel, I don't love her either.
I scan around to see people whispering and texting back and forth on there phones no doubt discussing what just took place.

"A better question would be where isn't Rachel. She took off after you got kneed in your balls, which was the most hilarious thing that's ever happened on earth by the way." My jaw clenches at the memory. She'll pay for that. God, I hate that girl with every fiber in my body and if I could I would erase the day I ever even breathe the same air that she was breathing and I know it's a horrible thing to say but I truly mean it. It would be so much easier to not know she exists and to not hate her.

She's the reason I'm still in therapy, I actually have a session in the morning.
Madeline is so pissed. Her face is literally steaming hot red and I know she's going to burn the whole freaking house down. She stomps up to me in heels too high to be safe and smacks me so hard across the face I think I got whiplash. I hear shocked gasps and a few "damn's."

"How could you do that to her? What if she never speaks to me again Ky, why do you always have to do this to her she's literally never done anything to you. I don't even know who you are anymore, your such a asshòle!" She's crying and pushing my chest and I should have told her then. Right in front of everybody but no one could even begin to understand. Madeline needs someone like Olivia to get through the shit I can't escape from, the problem is Olivia is the reason I can't escape from it.

I'm emotionless as she yells and cries about how she hates me and it honestly doesn't even faze me. Nothing has really fazed me in a while. I have one focus and that's getting in SCL it's practically a gateway full-time scholarship to Bryce University and the amount of students they let in is so limited it's insane. Last year they only let in 10 new students. And if Olivia was to win, if she was to beat me and take the scholarship..shit would go down.

Madeline's my twin it's practically impossible for me not to feel this huge connection to her but I know I'm doing what's best for her, even if she never understands why. It worth it.
"I hope she doesn't talk to you anymore. I hope she runs away and never finds her way back home. For all I care she could get hit by a fuc-"

"Bro that's enough, you don't really mean that yo!" Trevor says in disbelief. Tears are streaming down Madeline's cheeks and she looks so shocked as if she didn't know I hated her best friend with a living passion, she looks at me for a long time and says nothing then she shakes her head once and goes running in the opposite direction.

Damn it. The whole party is tense and people are starting to leave, the music is hardly audible and I without a doubt ruined Trevor's party of the year. "Whatever bro I'm going home." I look every last person in the eye to let them know just how much a shit I actually give. I don't care if I feed into the stereotype of me being a "bad boy" it's all bull. I'm a bad person. But since I'm attractive and play football so well they try to make it seem like I'm something more than what I actually am and that's, fuçked up.

I hate that I want to tell her I'm sorry. I hate that I would actually mean it. I hate that hate is the adjective my vocabulary knows best but hate has always been there for me when love wasn't.