Everyone Hates me

Everyone hates me - A short story by LJ Kundananji

For Chibuye

‘Everyone hates me,’ Ruth thought as she plodded down the road towards home, ‘The whole wretched world hates me!’

She was pouting heavily. She had had a bad day at school. She had got into a skirmish with Mariah, a close friend of hers; and now, they had ceased being friends. She shuddered as she recalled the meanness that her once-upon-a-time good friend had just portrayed a few hours ago.

At first all had been well. They had been working at some Math question together and having a jolly good time by occasionally throwing jokes at the geeks and good-for-nothings in her class who definitely deserved to be laughed at.

“Chi George is very silly,” she had whispered into Mariah’s ear, “he thinks he can go out with me!”

“You can’t be serious!” Mariah squealed with round eyes.

“I am,” she said, giving George, who was slouched over his books in one corner of the class, so dangerous a look that he would have cringed in fear had he seen it. “I wonder what makes him think that he is my class.”

“What a loser,” Mariah said in derision, eying him with a hand under her chin. “But I can’t really blame him.”

“Why?” an intense look of shock spread across her face. “Are you siding with him?”

“No no no…” she said quickly and almost apologetically, “I mean, just look at how gorgeous you look – can you blame him for wanting you?”

Ruth smiled conceitedly and shook her chest ostentatiously. “He just can’t resist my looks, can he?”

“Nay…especially because you are putting on the shirt I bought you!” she giggled and pulled gently at the green shirt Ruth was wearing.

Suddenly Ruth went cold and a ruthless expression spread across her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she hissed viciously.

Mariah goggled at Ruth. She knew that her friend had a very volatile temper and lost it as easily as the grass lost its dew on a hot summer day.

“I mean you look beautiful in it…” she said fretfully.

Suddenly Ruth shot up to her feet, her eyes all wild with anger.

“What are you trying to say?” she yelled, arousing everyone’s attention in class. They pushed aside their books to watch this remarkable spectacle. “Are you insinuating that if it was not for your shirt, then I would not look beautiful at all?”

“NO!” Mariah said in a trembling voice. She stood up quickly; she could feel the anger building up in her.

“Yeah, that is what you are implying!” Ruth continued, pointing her long finger in her face. “You think this skimpy little shirt you gave me is what makes me beautiful! Let me tell you something sister; it actually reduces my beauty!”

The class reeled with pleasure.

At this point, Mariah could not simply handle it anymore. Though she was a gentle person with a patient disposition, she lost it all. With her chest heaving and the anger flashing in her eyes, she lashed out and gave Ruth a slap across the cheek. Ruth, who was innately belligerent, lashed back almost immediately and planted her large palm on her friend’s cheek.

This time the class roared and cheered. They did not try to stop the physical exchange at all. On the contrary, they were enjoying it and wished it could go on forever.

The two girls stood back from each other, stunned. They were both shaking from fury, but Ruth was the most furious. She was like a wounded buffalo when she was angry and was capable of causing serious damage.

“You know what,” Mariah began in a shaky voice, “if that is the way you feel, give me back my shirt…right now…”

“Yes, yes!” the boys shouted with excitement reeking from their faces.

“You know what, that is fine!” Ruth hissed. She whisked up her bag from the table and pulled out her jersey.

She scowled at her friend and ran out of the room, much to the disappointment of the spectating boys. She heavy thumped down some steps towards the girl’s room. She clutched the handle furiously, opened the door and banged the door behind her.

She stripped off the shirt in a flash and put on her jersey. A few moments later she was tramping back to class holding the shirt with the tips of her fingers as though it were a sullied rug. She burst into the classroom and tossed the shirt into Mariah’s face.

“You can have your stinking shirt back!” she squealed.

Mariah slumped onto her chair, hugging her shirt. Her tears flowed fast and in thick streams. She stared at her friend and shook her head plaintively.

“It’s over!” Ruth barked with an angry grimace. “Our friendship is over! You have betrayed me—you are a bad friend.”

Mariah was too overcome with grief and shock to say a word. She just gaped at her once-upon-a-time friend with red teary eyes. Ruth frowned severely and walked out of the classroom and out of their friendship.

“I have never come across such a mean person!”Ruth muttered to herself as she slogged up the slope, atop of which was home. She rolled her eyes insolently when she saw her aunt’s dark figure through the kitchen window. So she was home. How convenient! Her aunt was the last person she ever wanted to see. This was because their encounters were always very explosive—like those that occur when hot oil meets cold water.

She pushed at the door slowly and reluctantly and shoved one leg inside, then the other. A few moments later, she was standing full length inside the kitchen, in front of her aunt, who seemed terribly thrilled at seeing her.

“It’s good you are here!” her aunt, who happened to be Mrs. Mambo, exclaimed, her small narrow eyes dancing with joy.

“Hmm…” Ruth grunted coldly, glaring at her.

“I am so tired!” she wiped her hand across her sweat drenched forehead and quickly removed the apron she was wearing. She held it out towards her. “Can you help me out with supper?”

Ruth’s mouth dropped open and she drew her brows into a terrible frown, so terrible it gave poor Mrs. Mambo some chills.

“I am also tired!” she barked. “I have been studying all day!”

“Studying?” Mrs. Mambo exclaimed with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. “Is that what has made you tired?”

“Yes!” she hissed, making to leave the room and proceed to the seating room, “I am sorry I can’t assist you.”

“Come back here!” she yelled, yanking at her jersey, which rode up and exposed the bare skin beneath. Mrs. Mambo goggled at her belly and a dark expression spread across her face, making her look darker than her light complexion.

“Oh ooh! You’ve even stopped wearing shirts now, eh?” she mocked. “So now you walk naked, huh? Now I know why you are so tired—you are so busy playing with your stupid boyfriends all day!”

“That is not true—not even one bit!” Ruth screamed, trembling all over from emotion. “I don’t even know one single boy—not one!”

“Don’t lie to me! I am a woman too! You always come late everyday because you are always with your husbands!”

Ruth could not take this anymore. She felt like lashing out at her aunt and giving her a mighty slap, but some force from deep down within her held back her quivering hands. She just glared malevolently at her.

“Auntie…”she began somberly, “auntie, shut up.”

If Mrs. Mambo was annoyed, she now turned crazy. “You! You! You!” she screeched. “What did you say?”

“I said shut up; you’re talking nonsense,” she said, waving her off with her hand in a contemptuous manner.

“Little one born yesterday, you have no trace of respect!” Mrs. Mambo fulminated, poking her forehead with her thin long finger.

“I can respect Regan the mad man but not you!” Ruth retorted, pushing away her hand. “You are lazy, and you take advantage of us—me and my siblings. We do all the work around here, and you—you just hold the cooking stick and you say you are tired. Just because our parents are dead doesn’t mean you have to take advantage of us.”

“I will flog you—I will flog that filthy mouth of yours!”

“Go ahead! I am not afraid of you; after all you aren’t my mother!”

The door suddenly swung wide open and in walked Mr. Mambo. There was a look of severe shock on his face. He had heard the brawling a hundred yards away, and now that he was seeing it with his own eyes, it was worse than all his imaginations of World War Three. He stared from his wife to his niece, completely at a loss of what to do.

“No, please, don’t argue—she is only a child…” he said in his usual mellow manner to his wife who was obviously at fault.

“You keep quiet!” she hissed, waving her finger dangerously in front of his eyes. “Are you trying to support this little slut? What, perhaps you prefer her to me?”

Mr. Mambo cringed with shock. He goggled at his wife in terror. It was easier to handle a wounded buffalo than irate Mrs. Mambo. She was capable of doing and saying anything.

“I can’t live under the same room with this…this thing!” his wife declared with such an expression of disgust that one would think she was staring at vomit.

“If that is how you feel, then I am leaving!” Ruth blurted.

“Go—I would love that very much; in fact that is what I want!”

“No, Ruth, you don’t need to go at all!” Mr. Mambo reached out and grasped her hand but she shook it off.

“Let me go!” she cried, her eyes red with tears. She burst out of the room, sped through the seating room in front of her young brother and cousins and made straight for the bedroom. She furiously stripped off her clothes from the hangers and stuffed them into a bag.

“You are not serious.” A voice from said from the door way. It was her young brother. He was staring at her with his hands folded across his chest and a glum expression across his face. His eyes were glistening with tears. “Don’t do this…”

Ruth did not say a thing and she did not look up at him either. She just went on packing in utter and sullen silence. After she was all done, she slipped into her flat shoes and pulled a jumper over her jersey. With fierce determination across her drenched face, she flew through the house and towards the door. The bag in her hand swung wildly and knocked over several pieces of furniture, most of which were fragile. But she did not care. She burst out of the front door and vanished into the misty darkness.

Andrew, one of the few people that genuinely cared for Ruth, loved taking solitary walks after the sun went down and the coolness of night set in. one this particular night, he happened to be plodding down the road a fair distance away from Ruth’s home when he saw a familiar figure scurrying towards him. When he was near enough, he could clearly see that it was Ruth. She was in such a wretched hurry that she almost bypassed him. It was only after he intercepted her path that she came to a halt.

“Get out of my way, please!” she blurted out with her usual rudeness.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he inquired with a smile.

“Nowhere!” she retorted in a trembling voice. She hardly looked up at him.

He stared at her suspiciously. His eyes fell down to the bag in her hand, and he felt a chill run up his spine.

“Ruth, is everything alright?” he asked worriedly.

She did not respond. She slowly lifted up her head and Andrew finally saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. He started.

“What is going on, Ruth?” he inquired with genuine concern.

“Nothing that you can help with.” She said coldly.

“Have you run away from home?” a frown spread across his face.

“Let me go!” she shouted, trying desperately to pass round him, but he blocked her way each time.

“I care about you, Ruth!” he breathed. “Please tell me—I can help!”

“If you care about me, you will let me go!” she said, pushing at him.

Andrew shuddered from emotion as he looked down at this girl, this pretty girl so distraught with troubles. Oh, how he wished he could be a superhero and rescue her from all her troubles. With serene gentleness he placed his hands on her shoulders and stared deep into her drenched face.

“I care about you,” he winced. “I…love…you…”

Ruth looked back at him with apparent shock. She shook his hands off and glared at him in disdain.

“That is not true…” she grunted. “Everyone hates me…”

With that she took a step aside and walked away briskly, tightly clutching the bag in her hand. A few seconds later, the darkness engulfed her and he could see her no more.

Andrew remained watching on. He was thoroughly shaken. But then, as he gazed into the misty darkness, it slowly dawned on him: Ruth was too embittered with rage to believe that anyone genuinely loved her. She was so blinded by her anger that she could not see the blankets of love that the ones who cared were trying to wrap around her. And, unbeknownst to her, she had just tossed away Andrew’s blanket of love.

 

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