Recovery (A Creepypasta/Masky Fanfic)

Chapter One

Chapter One

Hazel opened the door of the video game store, her head low and a gray aura around her, as she exited the place. She toyed with the new Pokémon game in her hoodie pocket with her fingers, smiling slightly as she could almost feel the excitement radiating off the new game. It wasn’t a brand new game, more like the old Gameboy Fire Red version, but she couldn’t help but to buy it. She missed playing Pokémon, and the store had it on sale for only a couple dollars. How could she say no? Besides…it would make up for that day’s dreary events. She shook her head and followed the trail that lead out to the main sidewalk, where she continued down the path towards her house.

She couldn't believe it. Her friends had decided to ditch the plans she had created to spend time with them. She had invited them all to the café not too far from where they all lived, to hang out and spend time together, since it was summer. Yet, when she asked each of them, which made out to be only three, they all said they had ‘somewhere’ to go, ‘someone else’ to hang out with, or just couldn’t. In the end, after she went around the back of this old abandoned building  where they usually met up at, she noticed them all hanging out with a bunch of the preps from school who had been wondering about trying to gain new…would ‘recruits’ be a good word? Anyway, she just sighed heavily and left without telling anyone. She really wished her friends would have at least confronted her about this. But, what could she do? She was only herself—Ivory skin, forest green eyes, and a flash of long layered black hair. Out in the crowd of dozens, she stood out the most, with her white hoodie and all. It was something her mother had given to her when she was a baby, something that her mother said had been found near the sight of her parent’s death.

                Oh yeah, Hazel had been adopted by the one she called 'mother' now. Her parents had died in an apparent house fire. Luckily, Hazel had survived, found in her mother's arms. The firefighters rescued her, but it was too late to save her parents. At times, Hazel wondered what her parents would have been like. In the photo, she could just barely resemble the gloss of her father's dark green eyes, but she didn't have any traits from her mother. Her mother had long black hair, as Hazel had been born with a shade of dark brown hair—unlike both of her parents. That's why she had decided to turn her hair black—she wanted to look like her mother too.

                As Hazel strode down the road, she noticed a weird flash of orange to her right, and she couldn't help but stop and peer over in the direction the strange color seemed to originate from—a forest area or park, she wasn't sure. Sure enough, she saw what appeared to be a man in a dark orange-looking jacket running after another man, one holding a camera with a dark colored hat. What also appeared strange...was that the orange-coated guy was wearing a mask—one that resembled something you'd see on a mime or something. She just watched as the masked man ran after the camera man, who seemed to be thinner than the masked man, so he was at an advantage. Hazel couldn't decide whether to consider this some sort of game, or an actual account of robbery of some sort. Instead, she continued walking in the direction of her house. Nobody knew that she had seen what was going on over there, and in a sense, it didn't seem completely harmful. Maybe it was a game. Yeah, a game.

                As she approached her house, she noticed her mother’s black Taurus in the driveway, and she felt her heart sink. Her new mother, whose real name was Patricia, had to have been exhausted with worry by now. Hazel had forgotten to leave a note or tell her mother where she was going before she left the house to go to find her ‘friends’ and then settling on the game store instead. She couldn’t help but cringe at the thought of the tone of her mother’s voice as she’d enter the house. Not out of annoyance, but because she knew she had forgotten and felt guilty about it. She sighed outwardly, and then paced up the well-lite driveway towards the two-story cottage they shared.