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Hazel had been living with the Zhangs for two days and was, safe to say, officially adopted. Grandma Zhang treated her as if she was another grandchildren, and Clarisse seemed to like her as a sister.
But with Frank... Everything was different.
It wasn't as if she didn't like him. Just that he didn't felt like a brother, at all.
That morning, she wore a long, white skirt and a light blue top. She pulled her hair up with a blue bandana and put on her espardilles. She twirled around and laughed, feeling weird. No, not weird. Feeling safe.
"You should laugh more" She heard.
She turned around and saw Frank in the doorstep, smiling. She blushed and giggled.
"Why so?" She asked
"Your laugh sounds crystaline" He described, his gaze lost "Melodical. Like music"
She blushed harder and smiled mischeveously. She grabbed her skirt and made her was towards the door, where he was.
"You're such a poet, aren't you?" She suggested, getting closer and laughing at the way he blushed.
He stammered, but did not form a coherent sentence.
Hazel booped his nose, giggles again and leaved the room.
"Let's go, Mr Poet" She said, already running "Breakfast won't cook itself"
She made her way towards the kitchen, dancing and twirling around herself, her steps drawing a path.
When she arrived, she started the fire and cooked some omelettes. She mixed the eggs with the spices while her feet danced.
Frank arrived then, still red in the cheeks. She rolled her eyes and smiled.
"Are you gonna help or just going to stare?" She asked.
"Not such a bad view" She could have sworn she heard him mutter under his breath before reaching for the coffee.
In a second, before he could react, she flipped the omelette and caught it mid-air with the pan, before falling into his arms as if it was a staged choreography.
"Is this angle better for you, sir?" She asked, grinning.
And, before he could have a word, she yelled.
"BREAKFAST!!"
Clarisse and their grandmother appeared, smiling.
"Hazel, dear, I'm gonna need to pay you so stay" The woman said before sitting down.
They started to eat, but it was only a few seconds before Clarisse started teasing her brother, as usual.
"Why are you so red?" She asked, punching him playfully in the arm "Cat got your tongue, huh?"
The mood was light and familiar, but a pang of guilt hit Hazel's chest. She wondered if her mother was ok.
"Do you think I'm selfish?" She asked, staring at her food.
"Selfish?" Clarisse choked on her coffee "You are literally the most selfless person I know"
"But I left my mother all by herself" She replied.
"The mother who hit you with a broken glass bottle in the face?" Frank asked.
"But still" She argued "I shouldn't have leaved like that"
Guilt was eating her up. What if her mother fell into depression again? What if... what if she killed herself?
She got up quickly and fetched her things.
"I need to go" She whispered urgently "I need to stop her"
"Stop her from what?" Clarisse asked
"My mother" She said "If she killls herself... It's my fault"
"How can it be your fault?" Frank asked.
But Hazel ignored him "Thank you. For everything. Just thank you. But I need to save her"
"Some people do not deserve help" The grandmother stated.
"But every person should help if they can" She said.
She turned back and prepared to run. Running away, once more, because she was stupid. Because she did everything wrong. Because she ignored things, hiding in good places she did not deserve.
But it was time to wake up.
Although, suddenly, she felt a grip on her wrist.
"You'll come back?"
Frank's voice made her stop on her heels.
"See you on Monday, at the bus" She promised.
Unless she's gone She thought Then I won't be there to tell the tale
She waved goodbye and ran away.
She ran through the streets once more, as fast as she could. She hoped that the pain she felt on her chest would erase her tears. She was wrong. Somehow, her pain just grew inside her.
She had to prove too much. Every instant on her life seemed to be recorded and analysed. She had to dance perfectly if she wanted to succeed. She had to bear her mother or she would fall back into it. She had to smile so no one would realize that she was falling appart.
She was totally fine.
She couldn't breath, but she kept running, thinking of the pain as some form of self punishment. Because she deserved much worse, but it was all she could manage in that moment.
She reached the village and inmediatly wiped the tears. She was fine, she was fine. She forced a smile in her face. She was fine, she was fine.
Hazel saw her house in the distance and kept running, but then she saw them.
"Hey, nerd, watch your step!" Was all she heard before she tripped into something and fell to the ground.
The rockly road opened her knees and stained her skirt with blood. She got up, swallowing up the tears, and started running again.
She didn't even look back at them. She deserved whatever they did to her. She deserved the blood and the pain. But she was still perfectly fine.
She reached her house and stopped dead in her track. There was a huge, black car parked in the entrance.
She grabbed her keys and opened the door, her heart pounding.
Why would such a car be there?
Then, as if a rock hit her chest, she realized.
"No..." She whispered
She opened the door and went inside. It was dark and smelled bad, but she could still see something.
When she saw a figure aproaching her, she felt fear, but then she relaxed.
It was her mother. She was ok...
The woman grabbed her by the collar of her t-shirt and pushed her against the wall.
"WHERE WERE YOU?!?!" She screamed into her ear.
"I'm sorry" Hazel whispered, her voice taken.
"YOU'RE A DISGRACE! A SHAME ON ME!"
She looked down, feeling ashamed. She was right. She was worthless.
Suddenly, she heard a voice, a masculine one.
"Get off my daughter" He ordered.
The woman stepped aside, and Hazel looked up. Her skirt was more bloody by the minute. Her face was pale and her breathing shallow.
The man was tall, with dark hair and pale skin. She wore a tailored suit and a white shirt underneath.
"Hazel, my darling, I hope you are ok. I'm so sorry, but this woman had kept me away from you way to long. But I swear, it's over"
But she wasn't listening. Because her mind was still thinking of that nickname, memories from way too long ago arrising.
"Dad?" She asked, her eyes wide in shock.
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Fanfiction"Dancers don't become great because of their technique, their greatness comes from their passion, and never giving up" Olympus Ballet Academy, a reality for a few, a dream for the hundreds of teenagers that enter the trials, hoping they will be the...
