I stood outside in the freezing, bitter cold waiting for a ride. Nice going mom, you’re an hour late. Again. Thanks a lot. I wish she’d just get here, she won’t let me take the bus home, God knows why, and so I have to sit out here in the freezing, below 10 degrees weather that is New England in the winter. She does this to me everyday. Every fucking day.
Ah, here she is, right on schedule. I get up and walk to the curb. She drives over and barely stops for 10 seconds, waiting for me to get in. She hates waiting. I quickly throw all my shit in the car and jump in before she drives away without me. God, I hate her. I don’t know why I wanted her to come in the first place. I’d rather stay out there than be in here with her. It’s even colder in here than out there even though the temperature for inside the car says 85 degrees.
“You need to be quicker next time Hazel. I don’t have all day you know.” she says as she stops at the next stop light.
“Mom, I was quick as I could be, you’re just not giving me enough time.”
“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not a good mother?!” She slaps me. Hard. My cheek hurts, it’s starting to sting but I bite back the tears before she sees them.
“No mom! All I’m saying is that I would just like a little extra time to get in the car, that’s all” Even though she was right about me thinking she’s a bad mother, I say that anyway to try and avoid another slap, or worse.
“Whatever. I don’t feel like talking right now so shut your ungrateful little yap.”
Jeez mom. You couldn’t be a little nicer to your own child? Why does she hate me so much? Is it because of her childhood? Is it because she’s just sick and twisted? Is it because she didn’t want children in the first place? Or… is it that I’m not good enough? No. Stop it. Right there. You Are Great. She’s just an ass.
I walk into our house and immediately I stop. I see the picture in front of me on the wall. It’s of Peter in his uniform. God I miss him. Peter is my older brother, he’s in the navy, I don’t see him much but when I do he’s always there for me. He survived several years without anyone to help with Mom and I am so proud of him for sticking through it. Whenever he comes home he tries to take as much of the brunt of her wrath as he can for me. He’s my support. If he didnt come home every year, at least once, then I don’t know what I’d do.
“Get your sorry ass moving Hazel. It’s cold outside and your blocking the door”
“Sorry” I mumble.
I walk farther into the house and I see Dad typing away at his desk in his little sealed off office. He doesn’t notice a thing. He’s completely oblivious to the way she treats us. Or maybe he just doesn’t want to get involved. I don’t know and I don’t care. Either way, he’s not helping and I couldn’t care less anymore.
Suddenly I hear my favorite sound of the day: “Hazel Hazel Hazel!!!” calls little Gwenny. My little 7 year old sister. She loves me so much, and I love her. Everyday she comes to the door when I come home and she greets me with a running jump into my arms. I swing her around and then bring her into a huge bear hug.
“Hey Gwenny, how was your day?”
“It was great Hazel, we played with dolls today at lunch and then we did the counting circle and then we did the Valentine’s Day thing…” She goes on and on, and usually I love hearing her talk but today I have to check the rest of our lovely home.
I walk upstairs with Gwenny in my arms. I come up to a door that says “Keep Out!”. I knock.
“Sam? You in there?”
“Sam? Sam? You in there?
I start to panick so I barge into her room. I see her sitting on her bed, perfectly fine, with her “around the ear” headphones on and the laptop in her lap.
“God Hazel, don’t you know how to knock?”
“I did and there was no answer”
“Oh, sorry” She laughs.
“Sammy!!” Hazel jumps on her bed and Sam reaches over to tickle her. Gwenny collapses on her bed in a fit of giggles.
“How you doin’ Gwenbug?”
I slowly back out of the room, leaving them to their tickle fight. I love them so much. I try to do the same for them as Peter did for me when I was growing up. I love them so much it hurts.
But its’s a good kind of pain.
I just wrote a HUGE Chapter but I just lost it. Im so pissed, sorry guys it might not be up for another day or two. damn.
mr-mittens asked: <3 still love you
<3 good. i still love you <3
I love you, and I know it seems hard now but theres always a rainbow at the end of every storm. I realize that these words are the only comfort I can give you, I cant relate, I dont know what its like to feel like that. and I dont know what else to say except “its going to be alright” and “you’ll make it through this”. Theres nothing left to say. and since Im not near you, theres no action to say what words cant describe. And Molly, I know your stronger than this. I know that you can make yourself not go to the tweezers and razor. I know you can, you just have to believe in yourself and try and distract yourself from thinking about it. Im sorry that your going through this, I wish there was something I could do to help. If you ever need anything, just ask.
I love you girl and you’re going to make it through. <3
“Sit down Tristan. I understand that Hazel is a very attractive girl, but we must start the class” said Mrs. Grayson as we were staring at each other. He then sat down all the while not taking his eyes off of me. God he is so beautiful. But, now what do I do? I’ve made my introduction, I’ve been friendly and outgoing, but like I said before, I’m not good with guys. What do I do now?
Well that problem was taken care of for me because, apparently, hes really into algebra so he took out his things and actually paid attention in class. I started day dreaming again, thinking about whether he had a girlfriend back home, if he played sports, if he was a musician, a thespian, an artist, a writer. I wonder what he likes in girls? I have dark brown hair that’s longer than my shoulders, bangs that sweep to the side and very blue eyes that people have told me reminded them of the ocean. Did he like blonde hair? Brown eyes? Is he one of those guys who really pays attention to a girls body? Oh I hope not, I hate those kind of guys.
“Do problems 1-40 for homework, and there will be a quiz on that tomorrow” Mrs. Grayson practically yelled over the noise of us all packing up. “So Hazel, what class do you have next?” said Tristan with that amazing voice of his. “I have Tech with Mr. Grober, what about you?” I said as we walked out of class together. “Ya I have Mr. Grober as well, can you show me where his classroom is?”he asked hopefully. “Why yes, I can show it too you” I smiled at him. He’s amazing, and I think this is the first time I’ve walked down the high school hallway without being in a daze.
He distracts me.
“There’s a seat right over there Tristan, please go sit down.” says Mrs. Greyson as I cringe in my seat. I’m not good with boys, I get all shy and my hands get sweaty, but today I am going to be as outgoing as I can be.
Tristan, oh what a beautiful name, walks over to the other side of the classroom amongst freshman who are staring at him like he’s fresh meat with his head still in his schedule. As he walks, kind of slowly, I immediately reach for my emergency hand lotion and I try to make my hands not sweaty. It works! So when he gets to the desk I reach over and offer my hand while saying “Hi, I’m Hazel. And you’re Tristan, I love that name.”. As he looks up to see who was talking I finally see his face. Oh, it’s the most beautiful face I have ever seen! He has brown eyes that I could drown in, and his lips are just about perfect. I can’t believe that I am sitting next to this gorgeous creature!
He takes my hand… it’s soft yet rough at the same time. It’s strong. He says in a voice like liquid crystal, “Since you already know my name I guess there isn’t much “greeting” to be done here, is there?” I answered, almost in a whisper, “I guess not.” Then Mrs. Grayson told him to sit down as she started her boring lecture on the relationship between slope-intercept form and point-slope form.
Oh god, I think I just fell in love.
As I walk into Algebra I see that my friend Izzy brought her friend from the next town over to shadow. We usually sit together but today I’ll just have to sit behind her. She’s one of my best friends you know. Well anyways, I go and I sit behind her. She starts talking away about her friend and she’s introducing us, but I’m back in my own little universe. Izzy doesn’t mind, I do this a lot.
As freshman students just like me that I’ve gone to school with my whole life pour into the classroom I realize that every seat is taken except for the one next to mine. I guess i was right all along. Nobody in this class except Izzy really wants to sit next to me. I don’t think it’s anything personal, I think they all just have their own group of friends.
By this time Izzy’s stopped talking and the teacher has started class, “Ok student’s settle down.” We don’t settle. Mrs. Grayson yells, “EVERYONE QUIET!!”. I guess she’s finally learned from experience that we wont quiet down until she yells like that. “We have a new classmate everyone, he’s just transfered here from New Hampshire.” says Mrs. Grayson as a tall boy walks in with his head in his schedule. From what I can tell, hes kind of cute, not the best but I haven’t seen his face yet. Dark, longish, curly hair, grey skinnys and an Anarbor shirt on. Just as I finish assessing him I remember that the seat next to me is the only free one.
She walked down the congested hallway of her poor, boring high school as if in a daze. She didn’t see anyone around her and her peripheral vision was blurred by the strange, blue colored lockers to either side. She was in her own little world as she walked down the typical high school hallway. Nobody thought to disturb her from her day dream for this was a regular occurence.
First she though about tests and homework and regular school stuff. Then she thought about her friends and how much she loved them and how much she missed some of them since they went to different high schools. Then she thought about her love life. She’d never had much of a love life, she didn’t even interact with boys until lately. Everyone told her she was so nice and beautiful and she was just starting to believe it. But if that’s the case then why hasn’t anyone had any interest in her? Why don’t any of the boys in her grade like her? Or why don’t they ask her out? What was wrong with her? No. She stopped that kind of thinking right there. She knew there was nothing wrong with her and even if someone asked her out she didn’t think she would say yes… So why go on and on and on about it?
Well before she could answer that she walked into Algebra