Hazel

• Jet Fawcett, Grade 6
• Short Story
• 2019

I closed my eyes.
Dreading what awaits me on the other side.
As I open them, I see Hazel.
Alone.
I try to pull myself back from the past.
“I’m here now,” I tell myself. “I’m standing in front of my future. Or my end”, there I went again, thinking about the ‘end’, the time I close my eyes and never open them again. The time my heart hits the brakes. The time I see Hazel again.
She wasn’t like me. She was nice to be around; she was optimistic and didn’t think like this. I take a deep breath, “think like hazel”. I open my eyes, I see a blue and purple swirl of light, in the centre a crystal sits. Waiting for someone who’s fed up and ready to take the risk. Risking their lives, it could quite possibly swallow me up and then puke me out in hell. Or it could take me with care to the place I believe is my home.
I grew up with Hazel, she was my companion, when I was mad she calmed me down. Sad, she made me laugh.
I was so furious that when she died I couldn’t bring her back. Which leaves me here, at the rains of ever faith. I cried so hard the day her smile dropped to the ground. The day her bright eyes turned grey. The day the Hazel Tinner I knew. Shattered like glass... into my hands.