Empires rise and fall, people come and go, but I'll never forget your face, what you did to me, for those 400 years I have harboured my hatred for you, every little thing you did only serve to increase my growing urge to decimate you.
When you took the last strawberry shortcake from the fridge, I looked the other way, silently seething and cursing your bloodline as you chow down on the pastry.
When you stepped on my shoes, "Sorry." you said, I smiled and replied "Don't worry about it." even though deep down I wished for your demise.
Every small, petty, however insignificant mistake only makes me angrier, stronger even.
For 400 years you kept doing it, those same mistakes, those same slights that makes me madder and madder every passing era.
When you stepped on my foot in the trenches during the battle for Yorktown.
When you accused me of being a British spy in the first cabinet meeting.
When you almost shot me during our 50th duel, this time with flintlocks instead of bows.
I hate you so god damn much. When I attend Harvard, I thought that would be the best part of my long-lasting infinite life, a chance to gain more knowledge, a chance to finally be away from YOU.
But what did I see when I entered my dorm for the first time? Your stupid visage looking back at me with widened eyes, and a shit-eating grin on your face.
Somehow the stars aligned, and I've been assigned as your roommate.
Sometimes I wish you'd just up and di-
"Ryan, what are you writing?"
"My growing hatred for you knows no bounds."
"Look dude, if it's the whole trench thing, I already apologized."
"Your death would do wonders for my mental health."
"Let me see that-" Ryan snatched the journal out of my hands, another slight added to the list.
"You've been documenting all of my actions?" He drops the journal in shock, ruining my property? That's another slight.
"Yes."
"You consider 'stealing your position as a factory worker for the Model T' a slight that's worthy of crucifixion?"
"That was supposed to be my job."
"Ok dude, how about this one, 'killing Hitler before I did.', how the hell was that a slight against you? I didn't even kill him!"
"That was supposed to be my glory."
"He killed himself!"
"Still supposed to be my glory."
"Y'know what? I'm not dealing with this right now." He walks away, that bastard, I pick up my journal and continue writing. Two more slights added, only a matter of time before he finally meets his end at my hands.
If it's 500 more years, I'm willing to wait for it.
Rybunks t1_jdazaof wrote
Reply to [WP] “400 years… that’s a long time to hate someone...” by AthenaCat95
Empires rise and fall, people come and go, but I'll never forget your face, what you did to me, for those 400 years I have harboured my hatred for you, every little thing you did only serve to increase my growing urge to decimate you.
When you took the last strawberry shortcake from the fridge, I looked the other way, silently seething and cursing your bloodline as you chow down on the pastry.
When you stepped on my shoes, "Sorry." you said, I smiled and replied "Don't worry about it." even though deep down I wished for your demise.
Every small, petty, however insignificant mistake only makes me angrier, stronger even.
For 400 years you kept doing it, those same mistakes, those same slights that makes me madder and madder every passing era.
When you stepped on my foot in the trenches during the battle for Yorktown.
When you accused me of being a British spy in the first cabinet meeting.
When you almost shot me during our 50th duel, this time with flintlocks instead of bows.
I hate you so god damn much. When I attend Harvard, I thought that would be the best part of my long-lasting infinite life, a chance to gain more knowledge, a chance to finally be away from YOU.
But what did I see when I entered my dorm for the first time? Your stupid visage looking back at me with widened eyes, and a shit-eating grin on your face.
Somehow the stars aligned, and I've been assigned as your roommate.
Sometimes I wish you'd just up and di-
"Ryan, what are you writing?"
"My growing hatred for you knows no bounds."
"Look dude, if it's the whole trench thing, I already apologized."
"Your death would do wonders for my mental health."
"Let me see that-" Ryan snatched the journal out of my hands, another slight added to the list.
"You've been documenting all of my actions?" He drops the journal in shock, ruining my property? That's another slight.
"Yes."
"You consider 'stealing your position as a factory worker for the Model T' a slight that's worthy of crucifixion?"
"That was supposed to be my job."
"Ok dude, how about this one, 'killing Hitler before I did.', how the hell was that a slight against you? I didn't even kill him!"
"That was supposed to be my glory."
"He killed himself!"
"Still supposed to be my glory."
"Y'know what? I'm not dealing with this right now." He walks away, that bastard, I pick up my journal and continue writing. Two more slights added, only a matter of time before he finally meets his end at my hands.
If it's 500 more years, I'm willing to wait for it.
"That's a Hamilton reference!"
"YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"