Hazel Grady, a frail but brawny 11-year-old girl, grows up on the infamous island of Nublar along with her father, Owen Grady, an animal behaviourist, and her mother, Claire Dearing, the park manager. After many years of living on the island, Hazel...
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ALMOST EVERYONE I KNOW BELIEVES FOUR YEARS IS A LONG TIME. but for i, hazel amber grady, it's not.
it felt like only two weeks ago me, mom, dad and maisie were sat in the car driving home after the lockwood estate incident. i remember specifically listening to dr. ian malcolm's speech and that has been on repeat in the my head since that day despite the fact that i've come to terms with dinosaurs roaming the earth.
my boyfriend, aiden hart, has offered me talk to me multiple occasions regarding the disasters i faced during these past seven years. i've only talked to him about it few times; not in depth.
aiden hart is, in my eyes a angel from heaven. he's always been kind, loving and caring towards me from when i met him in our job at the local newspaper all the way to now.
mom and dad live opposite us, it took a while for dad to approve of our relationship since 'we're only eighteen.' but he's fairly easy to convince. they are currently taking care of maisie lockwood. the girl that everyone's on a hunt for... the girls like a sister to me, i visit the cabin every sunday and gossip with her. (highlight of my week) however mom and dad forbid her from going across the bridge, which she despises - and i can understand where she's coming from but also i get where my parents are coming from. they want to keep her safe.
it's also been four years since i sent a letter to gray mitchell. he still hasn't responded to me.
it could be possible his parents want nothing to do with our family due to the impacts we had on them at jurassic world.
i walk out of my bedroom making my way towards the kitchen grabbing a mug to make a cup of tea. i often had it with milk and two sugars almost everyone knew that.
i usually wake up before aiden, he usually sleeps in until god knows what time unless i wake him up before hand, which i was going to do before hearing the creak open revealing him with his hair a mess and his eyes slightly open. i grab another mug to make a tea for him aswell.
"morning." he croaks
"morning." i say back to him
i go and fetch the milk from the refrigerator while he makes his way to the living room to sit on the couch. picking up a couple of pens and sheets of paper then leaning on the coffee table.
he usually writes to his dad weekly; his father's in the navy therefore we both can relate to a lot.
once the kettles boiled i walk over to it putting it to my right and placing the tea bags in each mug. then as i fill them up with hot water, i see the figure of maisie lockwood outside yet again breaking wood.
