Make Me Hate You

by Kandi Steiner

“I also discovered today that I am a terrible person,” I whispered into the microphone. “I guess we all are, aren’t we? At least, when we really break ourselves down to the molecular level. When we push aside all the sunshine and bullshit, and look good and hard at who we are, at the decisions we make, at the things we feel — things we would never say out loud or confess to anyone else.” I shook my head, eyes losing focus where I stared at the shape of the recording, a flat line now that I wasn’t speaking, a little green spike when I began again. “Maybe, at the core of every human being, there’s a dark, hidden world. Maybe it’s not what we do for a living or our hobbies or our background or our family that makes us who we are, but rather what exists in that dark little world that no one sees. And we can’t ever show it to anyone — not to our best friend or our family or our significant other — because we know in our gut that if anyone ever saw what truly existed there, they’d run. They’d run and curse us and scream at us to stay far, far away.” My chest hollowed, breath sticking in my chest. “Maybe we’re all monsters,” I whispered. “Just selfish, righteous things living in a nightmare, blaming our past for why we eat everyone around us alive, and feeling like we deserve something better, something holier — just because we’ve survived this long.” My bottom lip trembled. “He did it to protect me,” I whispered, knowing I would never use any of this for anything, that no one el...