11. New Plan Forming
As much as I hated being here, I had to come back eventually. I was just thankful that Hazel’s dad was snoring in his room while her mother was in the kitchen. She was busy doing the dishes, humming as she goes. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I quietly shut the door and walk straight to Hazel’s room.
On the walk back from the Library Benji had been staring at me with awe shinning in his eyes, repeatedly telling me how amazing I was back there and asked what I had done to his Hazel.
If he only freaking knew the truth.
Once we hit our street, I quickly hugged him goodbye and went inside, dreading what I could find, but thankfully it was peaceful in the home.
Locking my new bedroom door, I couldn’t get the new plan forming out of my head. I was a little unsure myself about it, but I knew I could definitely pull it off. I was just nervous that it might backfire on me in the process. But I at least had to try. If worst comes to worst, I’ll think of another plan.
I go to Hazel’s closet first and search through all her clothes. My nose wrinkles as I see most of them were very unattractive, baggy, and old. She was definitely a tomboy. Something I definitely wasn’t. Like most girls, I loved all the girly crap. The glamourous life of makeup, getting my hair done, my nails, wearing skirts, dresses, and the whole shebang.
I was a girly girl when it came to material things. Be as that may, I was still humble with my friends and my people. My parents never let my status of being the daughter of the Alpha and Luna of Night Stone get to my head.
I mean Myron, who was a lowly Omega, was my best friend and he had earned that right. Thinking of him, I stop shifting through Hazel’s clothes, clutching them tightly in my hands as the grief hits me hard. Tears sprang to my eyes quicker than I could blink.
I never needed him more than I needed him right now. I was trying to stay strong and get through this. I will get through this and even though Benji was here, who reminded me of Myron so much, I needed my best friend more.
“Ugh, come on Safina! Pull it together!” I whisper to myself fiercely, while jerking on the clothes to shake myself out of this depressing emotion I was suddenly sucked into.
Inhaling deeply, I start to take all her clothes out of the closet and throwing them on the bed, along with everything from the dresser drawers. Those clothes weren’t any better. Staring down at the mess I created I soon realize she seemed to have a thing for dark colors, especially dark purple and brown. Who the hell wears brown clothes? Pulling a large t-shirt from the pile I stare at the faded image of some local band, that had to be from the eighties at least.
Shoulders sagging, I go in the process of checking out all her clothes. Some were okay, but a lot needed to hit the trash bin in my opinion. I may not wear these clothes, already deciding to buy new ones for myself, but there was no way I’ll be throwing these out.
They belong to Hazel and a part of me felt that by throwing out what was essentially her was like throwing out the person she had been. I couldn’t do that. So, instead I set two piles. One for things I was okay to wear and the other I folded neatly to put in boxes later to keep just because.
After doing that, I head to the things on top of her dresser. She doesn’t have much makeup and most of it was pretty much all used up, as well as cheap brands that was horrible for the skin.
“Hm.” I think for a moment, deciding to head to the bathroom.
Not much was in there either. I was hoping to find moisturizer or lotions, but let’s face it, this family more than likely didn’t think about beauty care when they were struggling to just keep a roof over their heads.
Which means I need to find a way to buy new products. Placing my hands on the sink, I lean forward trying to figure out how I can get the money to pay for the stuff that I need to pull off my plan. I unconsciously look down at my arms and my eyes zero in on the thin white scars that were there.
Standing up straighter, I bring a wrist up to my face and rub the small protruding cuts. My heart twists in a throbbing sadness knowing why she did this to herself. It hurts to see them. I gently lean in and kiss those scars, wishing I had known the real Hazel. Maybe…
I pull back and sigh deeply. What was the point thinking that way now? She was gone and there was nothing that could change that. Dropping my hands to my sides I was about to leave when I hear the sobs. Freezing for just a second I turn to see Hazel there, sitting on the ground with her back against the bathtub.
My heart hammers against my chest as I watch her carefully trace a small blade against her skin, drawing blood. I knew this was another memory, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to rip that blade from her hands and hug the crap out of her.
I slowly bend down to her level. Her face was blotchy and red, tears were constantly running down her face with her nose watery. So much pain was sitting here in front of me and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
“I’m so sorry, Hazel. I’m so, so, sorry…” I didn’t know what else to say.
Reaching out a hand, I go to move her hair from her face, but the slightest touch made the memory fade. Sitting down hard on the cold tiles, I cover my face with my hands wanting to break down completely. I can’t say these memories weren’t getting to me, they were. But facing them was nothing compared to what she went through.
Heading back to the room I grab a black sweater and pull it over my head. I quickly grab these blonde tresses of mine, that I was actually beginning to love, and braid them in a hurry. I check the time to see it’s been two hours since I came back. It amazes me how much time goes by when your busy on a task.
I check to see the sun was going down, leaving a purple, pink and orange hue against the clouds in the sky. I gnaw on my lower lip feeling a bit nervous. Where I needed to go was going to take me all night and I was sacred to be alone on the road, but I needed to find a source of money, and this was the only place I could think of.
I slip out of the room and look into the kitchen. It was empty, as well as the living room. Passing the end table, I see a note that was placed there. Picking it up I read that Hazel’s mom had to leave for an overnight shift at her work. She asked if I could make Hazel’s father something to eat and bring it to him.
Ugh, fat chance on that. That bastard could starve for all I care.
Placing the note back on the table I leave the house, only to stop at the gate. Ugh! Clenching my fists, I tremble with the stupid feeling of being too nice for my own good. Turning back around I swing the door open and stomp into the kitchen. Feeling the sense of irritation at myself I open the pantry, scan the contents, and pull out a can of cream of mushroom soup.
Stomping over to find where the bowls were I finally grab one, open the can and pour the sloppy cold mess in the bowl. I go to the microwave and stop before opening the door. With a smirk I just grab a spoon and say fuck it, that asshole can eat it cold. At least he wouldn’t starve now.
Not caring if he was asleep or not, I jerk the bedroom door open and quickly plop the bowl on the bedside table, not bothering saying a word to him. I didn’t even look at him as I rush out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me.
Well, my good deed for the day was done. Luck dickwad.
Feeling a fraction better, I finally leave to go on my mission.