Young Hearts

Chapter Two

"I'm just looking for an angel with a broken wing."

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Welcome back, if you continued reading then I was honestly dumbfounded. But welcome anyhow. This is the story of when my life very first began falling apart. It was September 21, the day before my mother's birthday. I hadn't spoken to her in a week, and my boyfriend was also radio silent for the same amount of time. 

I was home alone that morning. I sat down in the stand up shower we had, and I closed the curtain. My music was blaring. A song about suicide. A song about giving up. I started crying, a small razor being held in my right hand. A sharp piece of metal that was controlling my life, seemingly my choices as well.

I cut vertically in three spots on my wrist, trying to press down as deep as I could. And sure, I bled a lot, but in the end the bleeding clotted and I just finished my shower.

I work at a grocery store, then and currently. I was relieved when I walked through its air conditioned doors so I once again could roll down my sleeves. It was pretty warm out for the brink of Autumn. I was greeted from my coworkers as I headed upstairs and dropped my belongings in my locker upstairs. 

I remember that I was in a 3:00 that afternoon. When I went downstairs, my task was opening on an express - 14 items or fewer - register 3. Everything was okay, nothing seemed too bad for me. And then I went on my lunch, because I worked a closing shift that night. I went upstairs and I got my phone, and I suddenly felt very happy. When I took a look at my phone I see I got a call from my boyfriend, Dylan. I was my coworker and told her happily he had finally contacted me. 

Actually, at this point in time, before Dylan left for college we got engaged. So I was ecstatic to hear from him. I opened up his voicemail and the first thing I hear is, "Hi Hazel... um, this... this isn't working out. I haven't been good to you." I couldn't even finish listening before I let out a pained scream and half fell to the ground. It got quiet as everyone looked over at the employee having a mental breakdown.

I went outside and I made a point in punching the brick building again and again. I had my store manager, the front end manager, and two of my service leaders follow me outside as I start balling my eyes out. My panic was so severe, and due to past histories, my manager called the cops to make sure I would be safe.

This might just seem like another break up story. But we were together for almost 5 years, he was my everything. My first kiss, first love, first intercourse.

I felt like everything fell apart in that moment. The facade I was building up for everyone around me just dissipated. 

I got home and I told my mom about what happened, which tore her up as well. She messaged him, telling him that he would eventually get his karma. Breaking up with me over a voicemail. After everything.

And then not even ten minutes later, she turned it around back on herself. She wasn't the center of attention and she needed to be, because how dare I take away any of that from her.

We got into an argument and I left the apartment, telling her I hated her. 

I called Dylan's parents, who were more than happy to pick me up and bring me to their house to calm down. They talked to me, made me some hot chocolate, even offered me to stay the night if need be. 

I decided against it, and called one of my best friends. Katherine. She came over right after she got out of work and brought me over to her house. Where I got high and drunk, unbelievably so for me as a person. I woke up with a hangover and called my work to tell them I wasn't gonna be in that day, either. In which they informed me they already covered it after I left work yesterday.

I spent the morning with her and the went to my empty apartment. I called Dylan's mom who was at the beach the next town over. A place in which she left after the call, which took a bit because she had been on a run. 

I walked around the apartment, screaming occasionally. I threw a glass bottle to the ground, threw the homecoming picture of Dylan and I down. Glass surrounded me as I punched the door frame again and again. My hand swelled and I couldn't breathe. 

Then I hear a loud knock on my front door. Little did I know the window in my room was open, so when she and Dylan's dad parked in the driveway that warm day... all they heard was screaming and something breaking.

I opened the front door and she helped me clean up the glass. They then took me out for the day, where I stood on the safe side of the fence on the bridge, wanting to go over on the other side and end everything.

Something I of course didn't do.

At the end of it all, I went home. They fed me dinner and drove me home. They parked in the driveway with an officer there. I didn't want to get out of the car but I did, and that is where they informed me that I had to gather up my belongings and leave the premises before my uncle showed up to bring me to his house.

I cried for hours.

My sister also played a roll in getting me kicked out.

So within a matter of days, I lost my mother and my sister. My cat. My apartment. The comfort of my room. One thing I did pack, though, was my box that included a lighter, a knife (to burn with), and razors. 

So there I was. Up in a small town, surrounded by trees, my aunt and uncle gone for 12 hours Monday through Friday. 

I cut. I burned. I purged. I cried. I overdosed. 

But then I moved to a city, a city where my best friend Brittany lived. I stayed with her and her family, who welcomed me with open arms. 

I thought this was a new start. Something good.

November 7, something awful happened. Which will be explained next. This next event was my turning point. Nothing compared to this pain.

- Hazel