Splintered

Chapter Four: A Hazy Shade of November

Hazel's thoughts swirled like delicate flakes caught in a storm as she stared at the rapidly cooling oatmeal before her. Her appetite was as nonexistent as the morning sun shadowed behind thick grey snow clouds. A snort escaped her. It would snow today of all days. She glared at the cold, sludgy bowl. He can't reasonably take credit for the weather.

"Are you all right?" Bellona watched her with a twitching brow.

"What makes you think I'm not all right?" Hazel could barely swirl her spoon through the bowl.

"You've been staring at that oatmeal for twenty minutes, and were you just laughing?'

Hazel dropped the spoon. "I'm not hungry."

"And the laughing?"

Hazel shrugged, expending much effort into avoiding Bellona's gaze, "Just losing my mind, I guess."

"If you are worried about the tour..." Bellona tilted her head, stepping closer, "A whole squadron will be assigned to your security."

Hazel smiled sadly at the young peacekeeper before her. Bellona couldn't be much older than her. Her features, while hardened by physical training, still held the roundness of youth. She was earnest, and her eyes shone with belief in what she was saying. However, despite being a peacekeeper, she seemed somewhat naïve, though something about that made her endearing.

Pulling at the edges of the bandage around her hand, Hazel finally decided to discard her breakfast before it resembled cement more than food.

As she rose and began to scrape the remnants into the trash, she murmured, "I wish that were all I was worried about, Bells."

The mere thought of the next few days and weeks made her want to run into the woods and never return. She shook her head as a shiver coursed through her spine at the memories of the green cloak melding into the faded, frosty, verdant woods. If she was hallucinating here at home, she couldn't even imagine how her fragile mind would react in more triggering environments. Then, there was the prospect of Senator Snow eating dinner with her family.

Bellona studied her for a moment when the front door flung open, and Sable strode through with a burst of fresh flakes in his wake. A bright smile graced his features. Snow peppered his hair as he cradled a steaming cup. "Morning girls, beautiful day, isn't it?"

Hazel dropped the empty bowl into the sink, "Glad you're here. I think it's time for a jog."

Sable's smile immediately faded as he coughed, "Oh no. Don't do this to me. How come you didn't make Bellony go?"

Bellona smirked as she shot Sable a look, striding to the front doors. "She likes me better." She made a show of looking down at her watch, "Have a good shift, old man."

Sable grumbled as Bellona slid the door shut behind her. He gazed longingly down at his coffee and then at the large flakes falling from the sky. "But it's snowing."

"Like you said," Hazel glanced out at the shimmering snow, "It's a beautiful morning. Besides, never let a little snow stop me before." Hazel hurried up the stairs, mumbling under her breath, "And I am not going to start now."

Sable huffed as he yearned at his cup of coffee before sucking it down in large gulps.

As Hazel rounded the corner, Rowan's room caught her eye. His door was again ajar, with only darkness coming from within. Hazel paused to peer inside. It was dim, cold, and devoid of her brother. She cast a glance behind her as she stepped into the shadowy room.

The space was still mostly bare, and it looked less than lived in. Boxes held the majority of his belongings. His bed was made, the blankets were crisply folded, clearly untouched for some time. It was as if he was frozen in the past or simply rebelling against the future. Refusing to settle into this new life. On his table lay a journal with several pens. Hazel slid closer to it. It was thick, brown, and leather-bound. The cover was worn, and it didn't close properly, as the pages were bent, corners folded in several places.