Clear Water

Chapter Two

The cold wind stung Hazel's face as she trudged through the dark, her shoes squelching in the mud. Her clothes were soaked from the storm, clinging to her like a second skin. She shivered but didn't stop. Stopping meant thinking, and thinking meant falling apart.

She had left. Really left.

No goodbye. No note. No explanations.

The realization should have felt freeing. Instead, it sat in her chest like a stone, heavy and unyielding. She had wanted to escape, and now she had. So why did it still feel like she was trapped?

Because they'll never care, a bitter voice whispered in her mind. They won't even notice you're gone.

She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Her breath came out in short, ragged bursts. The anger was back, sharp and cutting, but it didn't drown out the ache. It only added to it.

"They lied to me," she said aloud, her voice breaking in the empty night. "They lied, and they don't even care what it did to me."

The words echoed around her, swallowed by the rain. Hazel pressed her hands to her head, trying to silence the storm inside her.

The image of their faces burned in her mind—so familiar, so normal. And yet, it was all fake. Every hug, every word, every comforting smile. None of it was real.

You're nothing to them, she thought. Just a pawn in their stupid game.

Her legs felt like lead, but she kept moving. She didn't know where she was going, only that she couldn't go back. The thought of returning to their house—of pretending everything was fine—made her stomach twist.

But what was she doing out here? Wandering aimlessly in the rain, with no plan, no destination, no idea what to do next?

The anger flared again, this time at herself.

"You're so stupid," she muttered. "You don't know anything. You're just a scared little kid who thought running away would solve everything."

The words stung, but they were true. She had no money, no phone, no one to turn to. She was alone, and the world didn't care.

Hazel stopped and looked up at the sky, the rain pelting her face. For a brief moment, she let herself feel it all—the anger, the sadness, the overwhelming fear. It was too much, suffocating her.

She sank to her knees in the mud, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

"They don't care," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No one cares. Why should they?"

The thought echoed in her mind, relentless and cruel. She had been living a lie, and now she didn't even know who she was. Without them—without their fake version of her—she was nothing.

The rain poured harder, and Hazel stayed where she was, kneeling in the mud like some kind of offering to the storm. She wanted to scream, to curse the world, to beg for something—anything—to make it better.

But no one was listening.

No one was coming to save her.

And maybe that was all she deserved.