This was her favorite place to be. She would sit in the water, surrounded by flowers and their petals floating across the surface and listen to the frogs croak or watch the waterfowl pitter patter by, always in a straight line, never breaking their ranks. It was peaceful, it was calm, and it was serene. But none of that was why she loved this spot so much. The reason she coveted this spot was not because of its beauty and tranquility but because of what she could see, and how what she saw made her feel.
On this day, at this time and without fail, a human couple would show up just a few feet away from her spot for a picnic, a date. They would laugh, cry and, as they were doing now, they would kiss. They seemed genuinely happy. To be in love was such a sweet and beautiful thing.
And she hated it.
Oh, how she hated it.
She despised their happiness, abhorred their laughter and detested their shared tears and sadness. Everything they shared infuriated her, sickened her and filled her with disdain. But she couldn’t stop herself from watching. Despite the anger she felt, she never missed a date. To anyone else, it would seem bizarre, but to her it made sense.
She was not envious, she did not desire that for herself so much that it was the cause for her contempt. No, the answer was far simpler than even that. She didn’t enjoy their happiness, she didn’t want them to be happy.
It was such an ugly desire for a creature as beautiful as herself, but it was what she felt.
Why should they be happy? Why did they get to be happy? It wasn’t like she was miserable herself. She enjoyed her life, she woke up most mornings with a smile on her face. This was the only thing that soured her mood, and she let it do so willingly. Nobody made her watch these humans, she chose to come and see this, to let her day be ruined, to let her beautiful face become corrupted by a scowl.
Their love was beautiful, there was no denying that. But she hated that it was.
And it was that hatred that made her ugly.