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i hate you so a hundred times over.



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Audo

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this is a new project in the aim to expand the universe and story of my novel "i hate you so." by writing a collection of one hundred short stories, each based on a different theme, paired with a photograph. i would appreciate feedback and comments.
 
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Audo

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[size=+2]001 - Introduction[/size]​

i was new to the school that year. after father had gone mother thought it was best if we moved. she said that everyone needed a change of scenery once in a while and said that we’d only be moving to the other side of the city, and that i could still see my old friends.

but i didn’t really have any friends.

i mean i used to i did. but things happened and then it was just me all alone. i knew that going to a new school wasn’t going to change any of that, but i always knew the move was more for her than it was for me. and i was okay with that or i was at the time anyway.

but when i got to the school i was just as alone as i always had been. nothing had changed for me, other than the “scenery”. i still walked home alone, ate alone, cried alone.

i was silent in class but i did the work so no teacher would have thought more was going on. but something was going on, and i didn’t know how to explain. all i wanted to do was go to sleep and never, ever, wake up again.

i told mother this once. she didn’t say anything to me at first, only staring off at nothing. she told me things would get better. she promised they would. i only needed to stick with it.

that night, i heard her crying in her bedroom.

and that made me feel awful. i didn’t mean to hurt mother like that, but i couldn’t get rid of this feeling. i couldn’t even feel better by my dreams because all i was having was nightmares and then, even sleep seemed like another school to me.

it was one of the worst feelings i’ve ever had. that feeling like i was choking and no matter what i tried to do i couldn’t breathe again. i could fight and kick but never would i breathe again. never would this feeling leave me alone. i was trapped.

but then i met you.

and you smiled at me, and you asked me my name and i told you and you told me yours and you were smiling still. you told me that we should be friends and you gave me a card and on the card was an invitation to a Christmas party you were having. you smiled again and asked me if i would come and you were wearing a shirt with a green punch buggy on it and you were smiling.

and i said i didn’t know yet but i was lying because i was thinking yes in my head and then i finally said it. and it was like your friendship over the next while was like oxygen or something.

because i felt like i could breathe again.
 

Siren

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I have no idea how old the narrator is during this. A majority of the time he/she seems to be pretty young, but the last line seems a bit profound for someone that is meant to be young. Pick one and stick with it.

Other than that, it's a fine piece. Not your best, but not your worst, either.
 
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I have no idea how old the narrator is during this. A majority of the time he/she seems to be pretty young, but the last line seems a bit profound for someone that is meant to be young. Pick one and stick with it.

Other than that, it's a fine piece. Not your best, but not your worst, either.
The narrator does this thing called ageing.
The narrator in the short stories is never the same age across the stories because they all take place at different times.
In the novel, the narrator starts at age nine and consistently ages.
In this particular piece, the narrator is older than nine, and is recounting the experience that happened at a much earlier age.
 

Siren

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Okay, that makes more sense. Maybe tell the reader how old the narrator is for each piece? We already have preconceptions (those of us that have read i hate you so) that the narrator is going to be young. You'll have to make it clear, or people'll be confused.
 

Izayoi

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Without being out of place, I honestly thought part of the charm of the stories was that the narrator could be perceived as being multiple ages.
 
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Without being out of place, I honestly thought part of the charm of the stories was that the narrator could be perceived as being multiple ages.
Yeah, just like how the narrator and the narrator's friend can be perceived as being multiple genders too.

There's always going to be little clues about their ages (for example, perhaps mentioning one of the characters driving) but, to state it outright might be a little too much, imo.
 

DJQuackQuack

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Very nice, a charming story. I really liked when at the end you compared the having a friend to getting oxygen and 'being able to breath'.

And is it like each story is a memory of the past? The Narrarator is at a set age and going through events that happened to them when they are younger? Or shall that remain ambiguous to let the reader decide?
 
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Definitely the latter. Much of it is up for the reader to make up their mind about.
Also, I have the second and third story written for this done, I just need to get the photos for them developed and then I can post them. :)
 

Zeph

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I haven't read "i hate you so" yet (or maybe I have. In any case, I'll re-read it.), but I really liked this piece.

I, too, liked how you are leaving the age of the narrator to the reader's imagination. It leaves a nice sense of ambiguity to it all.
 
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[size=+2]002 - Love[/size]​

we were sitting at our place by the ocean where we had sat commonly in the past. i didn’t know how it came up but we started talking about love and what that meant.

it was then that i found out that you didn’t like telling people you loved them unless you truly meant it. you said you believed that if it is said too often it loses its meaning and you never wanted love to be without meaning.

and i agreed.

but you told me that i didn’t get it and i wasn’t sure if you were right or not. you told me that it’s not just a word to you and that it takes a lot for you tell someone that you loved them.

it was then that i realized that you had never said it to me.

but no matter what i thought about us before then, i knew indefinitely that i would never say it to you now. if i was scared of what was going to happen before, whatever fear i had was only multiplied by what you said to me.

but i guess that was due. the more i let these things stay for you – these feelings – the more i know i am only going to hurt myself. i love you more than i’ve ever loved anyone. but thinking that was different from saying it.

and now i knew that i wouldn’t ever be able to say it at all.
 
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[size=+2]003 - Light[/size]​

i remember people telling me that there was a sort of beauty in city lights. but it was a beauty that i had never understood or had seen for myself. i didn’t comprehend how i could describe both you and city lights with the same word and it still be true.

the only time i had ever paired the city lights with such a word was after you and i had gone through a lot that one day. both of us were so disappointed with how things turned out and we weren’t talking to each other and it wasn’t the good kind of silence either. i didn’t know what i needed to do in order to make things right again but then i found out that i didn’t always have to make things right.

that burden wasn’t always going to fall upon my shoulders. sometimes things just work out and that’s all there was to it and i didn’t have to do anything and you didn’t have to do anything and all we needed was time. and that was okay to me, and to you.

and i realized this when i was walking with you, and when we emerged to the outside world again we were met with the city lights of skyscrapers and cars and buildings and in that peaceful serenity the only thing i could attribute to it was that word – beautiful.

but it wasn’t the same kind of beauty. the moment was more beautiful than the collection of glaring lights staring back at us, and even if it was awe-inspiring i couldn’t feel right about it in retrospect.

you are not a bunch of incandescent and fluorescent bulbs and lights to me.

you are so much more.

and – that – is beauty.
 

Siren

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Re: i hate you so a hundred times over. (THEMES 002 + 003 POSTED)

I fucking love Lights. As in, I would make love to that piece of writing all night long, and it would be tantric.
 
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[size=+2]004 - Dark[/size]​

it was just one of those days. one of those days where everything seemed to go wrong and there was no way that i could have fixed any of it. you knew this too, but you didn’t say anything. you could see how much the day had impacted me on my face, like something was eating me on the inside out.

everything about me had changed. the way i walked, the way i talked, the way i looked at you. i was drained. drained of the happiness and cheerfulness and everything else that seemed to hold me together. it was just one of those days.

and i had already given up. the sun had gone down and the night was dark and i was ready to throw in the towel and just go to sleep disappointed and depressed – something i always hated to do, but that was just how much the day had changed me.

but then you called me up.

you told me that we should hang out. and i didn’t know what to say. i was ready to give up, ready to call it a day, but you told me that you wanted to talk to me. you told me that we could sit under the stars and look at them and talk like we used to.

talk like before, when we were confiding in each other all the things we never told anyone else before. the times were time seemed to become irrelevant to us, as long as we kept talking and we kept sharing and we were still together.

i told you that i would want to, but that there were no stars in the sky. i told you that the night was nothing but a sheet of black. all that was out there was the dark, and nothing else.

and you told me that changed nothing.
 

poke

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Re: i hate you so a hundred times over. [THEME 004 ADDED]

realllllllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyyyyy weird
 

Reverie

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I love 002, 003, and 004 a lot. Your writing style is so pretty.
 
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So, I've actually written a lot of these... just not in order.
I've written at least ten more and I just haven't posted them because:
A.) As I said, none of them are in order.
B.) I have no photos for them.

So uh... don't think I have forgotten about this project, for those who care (which is like... no one). Hopefully I'll start doing them in order again and I'll start taking pictures.
 
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