I Hate Men Novels & Stories

someone mutters. I sink back into the couch, warm, exasperated, oddly grateful. Yeah. I think I’m starting to hate men. Or at least the ones I love most.

The storm outside mirrored the one inside of him—relentless, unforgiving. He had done the right thing. Pushing her away was the only logical choice. Then why the hell did it feel like the biggest mistake of his life? He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply. Because the truth was— He wanted her. More than he had ever wanted anything. But men like him—men who had lost everything before—couldn’t afford to **want**. So, he did the only thing he knew how to do. He built another wall. One so high, even she wouldn’t be able to climb it. Even if, deep down, he wanted her to.

maybe finding something which she never find in my eyes not because she is the girl I hate the most but because of the mess I am in. I am not a good man, I never am. she is right I am a monster dressed in a good reputation. A monster who destroys her , every part of her that she is hiding , every part that she don't want to break. She doesn't know that I am planning to ruin her dad fully because if she gets to know that she is never looking at me the way she is looking at me right now. “ I think we should go,” I said ….

“It’s been 7 years since my Parent parted their ways and Mom still miss my father but I don’t. There’s no point to miss him. He is happy with his new wife and kids. He doesn’t care about us. He doesn’t even know how are we doing but I know everything about him because my mom tells me. She all the time talks about him to me; she still loves him but I hate him. I hate all the men in the World. Men in my life are so disgusting, no matter if my father, my brother, or my boyfriend.”

I started, but she cut me off. “I don’t hate men, Kade.” She looked up at me, her eyes seemingly to suck me into their cold bottomless pits, “Hate is too simple. Hate implies you care enough to feel something. I don’t hate men, Kade.” She paused, letting the silence thicken. “I despise them.” Her words were like shards of glass in my chest.

"How about you? Why are you out here? You should be stepping all over every man out there." "Oh, I really want to," She burst into deep laughter. "I want to slaughter them all. Nasty, all of them. They have no respect for women or anyone around them. Once they realize that you are way below them, then the mistreatment begins. I've never liked men. It's even one thing that makes them hate me." "Hate you? How could anyone hate you?"

I smile, knowing it’s difficult for her to confess something like this to me. “You are welcome.” I try to keep my tone light. “I hate men.” I frown a little. She turns red, which says this is an uncomfortable conversation that we are going to have now. “After seeing my father’s deed all these years, I grow to loath men. They think they have all the power in this world. They are the king and everyone else is just dust on their feet. I hate that. I hate my father for that. I can’t stand that man at all.” Her face is twisted in hate.

BOOK SIX: LAS VEGAS Men can be such insolent pigs, can't they? They make you angry, they make you cry, they make you question everything you ever thought about yourself.?Yes, I really hate men sometimes. They really are the bane of human existence. Especially when I am in love with one of them, and I have to ignore it because the pain of wanting someone I can never really have is too much to bear. "No, I don't want any pink or purple. It's not a bloody disco! Send me the final proofs when you're done and believe me, there will be hell if I see one trace of either of those colours. Bye," I gruff as I hang up the phone impatiently.

Blu * * * One thing about being a gangster is the inability to cry when people are watching. Father said it makes you look weak and that is abominable. It'll give your haters an opportunity to laugh at you, and make you look like a complete fool. So in order to give you haters no view of emotions, you keep up a straight face and once in a while, you smile. Make it look like the pain didn't hurt one bit. It was my father's funeral, everyone kept on whispering and saying things like I'm heartless or wicked or I probably wanted him dead because I have refused to cry, right from the moment they announced his demise to me.

I growled, staring deep into his eyes, giving him a choice to hate me or love me. . . . Ray's P. O. V Hate me... The word resounded me in my ears a thousand times. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't see myself hating her. It was impossible. " I can't..." I muttered, still looking at her. " What did you say?" She asks me, her voice coming out as a whisper. " I can't.... Do it..... I can't hate you. I don't know how to." I said again, strongly this time, begging and hoping she'll understand. Then all of a sudden, she started hitting me in every place that was available.