ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ - COMPLETED

Hate.

𝑻𝑾: 𝑴𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒆.

- 𝗙𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 - 𝗦𝗵𝗮𝗱𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗿'𝘀 𝗣𝗢𝗩:

𝑴𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝑰 𝒓𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒔, 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆. 𝑰 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒌, 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒚 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅. 𝑰 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒏𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒑𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒔𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒖𝒑.

𝑰 𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒆. 𝑺𝒂𝒍𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅. 𝑰 𝒔𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆, 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍. 𝑰𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆.

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏. 𝑴𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑰 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒅. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅. 𝑰 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒇𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒊𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑾𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓.

𝑺𝒖𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚, 𝑰 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒂 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒔𝒑𝒖𝒏 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅, 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆. 𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅, 𝒑𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅. 𝑰 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂 𝒌𝒏𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒑𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒅 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒎.

'𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒍𝒂𝒅 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒔𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.' 𝑰 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅. 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝑰 𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕.

- 𝗘𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 - 𝗕𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀:

"Ugh, where the actual hell is that crazy, old woman." Catra groaned as we trudged through the forest, looking for Shadow weaver yet again. "I swear we're always going through this stupid woods looking for her." Catra continued.

Castaspella rolled her eyes, but Catra had a point. Why did she keep running away? Castaspella didn't understand.

But of course she didn't. Castaspella didn't know how it felt to be alone. Really alone. With no one to turn to or talk to. She didn't know how it felt to have everyone hate her.