Hate Me

HATE ME

He stomped towards his room, his safe haven in that house which was more like a detention center. Why she even cares? I wish I had no Mom. were thoughts flashing in his mind among others which were more sinister. Struggling with his backpack he walked hurriedly but paused for a heart beat and turned to look at her fiercely making it unmistakably obvious how much he despised her. For an instance he thought his gaze could tear through her, draw a hole in her forehead, blow her to smithereens or vaporize her whole existence except that bottle of medicine in her hand containing pot he thought he hid safely.
Her face was a cocktail of emotions, fear, anger and grief discharged all at the same time but he hunted desperately for any sign of hatred even a slightest hint of hate just to confirm that she also hated him as much as he despised her. He had tried this before, hurling every thing bad towards her in form of a verbal or physical assault but much to his dismay these sentiments never echoed back.
He opened the door and just as he tossed the backpack in the corner of the room his eyes got fixated on what was there on top of the table. Tears emerged in his eyes and he didnot fight to keep them back as he slowly whispered "Hate me, please".