The Hate U Give Novels & Stories

Nothing matters more than her now. "No", she immediately turns to me, her eyes turning red. "I know it'll be tough. But if he doesn't get punished, it'll be tougher to digest. He took three lives. He ruined my childhood. It's my fault that I still can't hate him" "Because you don't have the hatred inside you to spread, Iv", I hold her hand and lift it next to my mouth, softly kissing her knuckles. "You're filled with love. All you can give someone is love. You're so pure both inside and out. It's impossible for you to hate someone"

Christian is talking with Chana near my locker I walked to my locker and opened it "Oh the pathetic girl is looking for attention." Chana said and I just rolled my eyes "Christian, we're still going to watch movie right?" She asked with a high pitch voice "Yeah." Christian said and I just shrugged not caring even my heart wanting to punch Chana in the face and just smacked her nose. I walked pass them with the book in my hand complete hurt inside. Yes yes I'm hurt, I know I can hide it too well.

Hate her. The very thought of her makes my pulse hammer in my ears. I can taste the metallic sweetness of pure hatred on my tongue right now — sharp as acid, bitter as burnt coffee, sweet as revenge. I could kill her, and it wouldn’t even feel like a crime. It would feel like setting something right.

"Payback is a bitch." "You will abandon your fight for justice just because you hate me so much and you want to see me suffer?" I questioned in surprise, as if I hadn't already gotten the answer I needed. "I will gladly be raped till death, if it guarantees your eternal suffering!" Bisi spat in so much bitterness that had me enthralled. I gasped unnecessarily and took two steps backward. "So much hate, Olabisi. So much hate for something I couldn't control… why?" I whispered in sadness.

“Hurt me. Say whatever you need to say. I’m still here.” The permission cracked something open inside my chest that I had been holding shut with pure will. The hate rose clean and bright and furious, and for the first time in days I let it speak without trying to make it smaller. “I hate that you took me against the glass like I was nothing more than a body that happened to be standing there. I hate that you were so deep inside me I could feel you in my throat. I hate that I came around you while I was crying and that the memory of it still lives under my skin like a second heartbeat. I hate that you stood in my room and told me the claim was real. I hate that you stood in the snow and offer

the girl immediately felt a couple of slaps on each cheek delivered by the man with an open hand, which were so powerful that she lost her balance and fell face first to the ground, her body shaking and an intense pain began to feel in her spine. "Don't talk to me like that! You know very well why I despise you; you were the one who threw your mother down the stairs, you're nothing but a murderer and that's why I hate you," she shouted with contempt. Hate is not healthy; it hurts the hater more than the hated. Eric Jerome Dickey.

Hate (noun): the opposite of love; a consuming fire that replaces affection with the desire for retribution. All of those. Hate was, with absolute certainty, what I felt for Axel Edgewood. And the second to last was what I was seconds away from marching up there and enacting when he spoke again, the words making me freeze on the spot. “Can I get a spotlight on her?”

And that freedom is worth more than any revenge could ever be. Letting go of hate is its own kind of victory. Its own kind of healing. Its own kind of love. For herself. For her family. For the life she's building. For the baby growing inside her. For everything that matters. The hate is gone. The freedom is real. The future is bright. That's enough. That's everything. That's perfect. Alice walks away down a grocery aisle. Elara walks toward her car. Both women lighter than before. Both women free in different ways. Both women moving forward separately.

They think I will crack and become weak; instead, I stood taller, stronger and fought back just as hard, if not harder. Yet, I can't stop the feeling of hate. I hate myself for how I am and for the things I have done. This world is a man's world, or at least a woman without remorse because every time I cause blood to drop, it burns me inside. I hate myself. I have no choice, though. If I don't fight them, if I don't punish their behaviour, they will take over the city, my dad's city. My. City! "Miss."

They would hate my child just because I’m its mother? "So, what if my child has my blood running in its veins? That makes my child unworthy of being accepted by you?” My voice cracks as hot, angry tears fill my eyes. “I have done nothing to you, absolutely nothing, and you hate me simply because of the color of my skin.” I shake my head in disgust. “You plan to apply that hatred to my child as well, even though they will be related to you. It's sad you guys have such a mentality in this day and age."