One week later...
Hazel has spent the last week in a sliver bar cell. In her own sliver bar cell in her prison. At first, she received many death glares, making her hug herself as though it was protecting her. One man in particular-in the cell next to her- likes to throw vulgar words at her and has snarled this whole time, while most kept quiet drowning in their own thoughts.
Everyday, Hazel holds back the tears of sorrow, regret and loss. Mourning the people she loved the most and the life she once had.
Everyday, Ezra would throw a tray of food onto her cell floor. It always went untouched. Hazel can't even look at him without wanting to kill or cry. Every time she sees him all she can think is, he did this. He's causing my pain. One day I'll get my revenge, just you wait Ezra.
Yet, Hazel can't find it in her to speak to him. Not even a word. It is like someone ties her tongue when he enters the room.
One day, she found great joy as the man, who speaks vulgar decided he couldn't take being locked up anymore. He screamed and shouted, banging the bars with his empty metal cup. Ezra marched with smoke coming out of his ears. Everyone watched with curious eyes.
"Stop that now! Or there will be consequences!" Ezra growled, standing close to the bars. However, the vulgar man just chuckled, taking a couple of threatening steps closer. Squaring up to each other through the bars, the man spat into Ezra's face. He scrunched up his face in disgust, wiping it away with the sleeve of his jumper. The man took this opportunity of weakness, to grab Ezra by the throat through the bars. He yacks Ezra towards him, pressing Ezra's face against the sliver bars. Hazel knows if Ezra could have screamed he would've, and boy would she have liked to hear him suffer.
Hazel watched with wide eyes. Ezra's face turned a mixture of burnt pink and breathless blue. Guards came rushing in, pulling the two apart. Ezra fell to the floor in a heap, coughing and spluttering. He placed a hand on his bruised neck, attempting to sooth it. The blue face had disappeared, but the blisters had started to bubble.
Ezra stands up, wobbling slightly. Once he gained his balance his eyes found Hazel's. For the first time she stared back at him, looking at him straight in the eyes. Her eyes sparked with mischief, a smirk resting on her face. Shivers ran down his spine, he almost could see the devil in her, he'd never seen her give such a look before. Ripping away, he leaves with his head low.
Six months later.
Deeply sighs, flicking over the page, and leaning back in her chair. Hazel looks around her bedroom/office. Her bed is on the left side of the room pushed up against the wall, her desk is facing the room in front of her on the right side. Hazel spends most time her time locked away in this room- at Hays request. She does all his paper work. The boring tasks.
YOU ARE READING
Dreamers
Werewolf(Book 2- Dreamlanders series.) Six months of listening to Hays' commands. Six months of being the underdogs. Six months of watching people die. After these torturous months, Dreamlanders and Dustfall members have had about enough. With the hope of...