Jealousy, Fear and Hatred

Fear
The fear gripped me; it had complete control, and it seized my insides. I took slow and deliberate deep breaths, desperately trying not to look at the torture before my eyes. I seized the safety bar and the tightness of my grip made the colour drain from my hands. The countdown began and I could feel my stomach already abandoning me before we’d even moved. Looking down at the ground far below me I wondered why I had volunteered for this. Suddenly, I was falling, a scream tore out of my throat as gravity pulled me back to the ground.

Jealousy
She tried to divert her gaze from them and focus all her energy on the task at hand but she couldn’t concentrate. She knew she shouldn’t, that it would only make it worse, but she couldn’t resist; she hastened a glance at them. She saw them with their designer handbags and their perfect lives, laughing, and she felt it, the jealousy that was her constant companion and permanently clinging to her back, constantly digging his claws through her flesh. Her gaze travelled down her work uniform and she realised that it didn’t matter how jealous she was, she’d never fit in.

Hatred
Hatred burned my insides. She coursed through my veins and coloured everything blinding red. I felt my face contort into a vicious glare: they all squirmed under my deathly gaze. Ugly memories filled my head and all the taunts, humiliation, embarrassment and most of all the unjust framing etched themselves into my brain screaming for revenge. I fought arduously, trying not to allow hatred complete control, but it seemed I was fighting a losing battle. I focused on my breathing, the repetitive action soothed me. I watched them hastily exit and I was myself again. Hatred had lost its grip.