The Silent Symphony: echoes of destiny.

"Return to Oppression"

Hazel, with nowhere else to go, found herself back at the Stewart mansion. The grand facade loomed over her, imposing and cold, giving her the exact feeling she had before she left: a sense of suffocation and hopelessness. Every inch of the house felt like a prison, reminding her of the lack of freedom and understanding she had always faced within its walls. As she stood at the entrance, the weight of her return settled heavily on her shoulders, making her feel more trapped than ever.
As Hazel walked in near the staircase, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she was met with a high-pitched slap from her younger sibling, Olivia. Despite being younger, Olivia wielded the house's oppressive authority, which granted her the freedom to act with such hostility. Hazel's cheek stung from the slap, but the emotional pain was even sharper.

Hazel's eyes filled with tears as she saw Mrs. Stewart coming her way. Stepping back, Hazel said in a trembling voice, "Mom, please listen to me." But, as always, no one heard Hazel. Mrs. Stewart went straight to her and delivered a huge smack on her back, her hand forming a punch. She dragged Hazel closer by her hair. Hazel cried out, shouting, "Please listen to me!" Her pleas echoed through the hallway, clearly revealing the extent of the abuse she was enduring.

It looked as if Mrs. Stewart was clearly taking out her frustration on Hazel. She pushed Hazel, causing her to fall on the steps. Hazel's glasses fell off, revealing her pretty eyes filled with bloody tears. The pain and sadness in her eyes were now visible, the tears mixing with the slight blood from a cut on her cheek, creating a hauntingly tragic sight. Hazel tried to gather herself, but the weight of her despair and the physical pain made it almost impossible.
Mrs. Stewart, holding Hazel by her hair, shouted, "Tell me, why did you run away? And with whom did you run away? If you ran, then why did you come back here?"

Hazel, struggling to find her voice through her sobs, pleaded, "Mom, please, I didn't run away with anyone."

Mrs. Stewart's grip tightened as she yanked Hazel's head back, forcing her to look up. "You think you can just leave and come back as you please? You disgrace this family with your actions."

Hazel's eyes, now red and swollen, brimmed with tears.

Hazel's eyes filled with more tears and fear as she saw Mr. Stewart coming their way. "Get her married," he said, ignoring Hazel and making it clear he didn't want her in the house anymore.

Mrs. Stewart's expression turned cold as she looked at Hazel. "You heard your father. You're getting married," she said, her voice devoid of any warmth or sympathy.

Hazel's heart sank. She felt utterly helpless, the weight of their words crushing her spirit. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but the years of oppression had taken their toll.

But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Mr. Stewart turned his back and walked away.

Hazel, trembling and defeated, knew there was no escaping her fate.

Days passed, and Hazel found herself back in the relentless routine of her life. She woke up early every morning, preparing breakfast for everyone. After ensuring the family was well-fed, she hurried to college. Upon returning home, she made dinner, studied hard for her future, and cleaned the table after every meal. She made tea, prepared snacks, and worked tirelessly, like a maid, even though there was already a maid in the house.

Her days blended into one another, a monotonous cycle of chores and obligations. Each day felt like a burden, her spirit weighed down by the oppressive environment of the Stewart mansion. Her only solace was the brief moments she spent in her room, dreaming of a life where she was free and respected.

Despite the overwhelming pressure, Hazel clung to her studies, seeing education as her only way out. She studied late into the night, her books offering a small escape from her harsh reality. Yet, every day, she woke up to the same drudgery, her dreams seeming further away with each passing moment.

In the quiet moments, when she was alone in the kitchen or her room, she thought of Chris and Kevin. She wondered if they ever thought of her, if they knew the torment she was enduring. The memory of Chris’s house, despite the misunderstandings, was a bittersweet reminder of what could have been—a life where she was seen and valued, not just as a servant but as a person.