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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
This is only a part of a story, not a full one. Comment down below if you think this story is worth continuing.

Submitted: February 01, 2017

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Submitted: February 01, 2017



When she opened the door, she was overwhelmed by the works of art that hung all over the ivory walls. The sheepskin rug on the floor underneath the oak wood little table was really the perfect little touch, as Hazel had said to her mother and… father. That was before he passed on. Fairy lights were strung in the doorways, and tapestries on the walls. Instead of couches, there were floor pillows laid on the ground, all different colors. Hazel believed the home to be truly warming.

Hazel threw her bag on the floor and stomped up the stairs to her bedroom. Her room was on the very top floor, just as she liked it. This meant that her parents were below her, and the bottom floor held the common areas.  She was on her very own floor and out of sight from her parent, soon to be parents. Out of sight, out of mind, out of life. Perfect.

Hazel’s room was no different from the living room. But her room was entirely blue. Literally. Even the lights strung were blue. The only thing that wasn’t blue was the little jewelry box that sat on her dresser. Hazel would have painted it a navy shade of the ocean, but it had a very special meaning. She couldn’t bear with re painting it, so it simply stayed the same.

Her father had given it to her right before he died, when she was 5 years old. He had been laying down in the same bed for weeks, because he was to sick to move. He said, “Our love can never be broken, even when I die. Don’t forget me, Hazel, for I will never forget you. Promise me.” He had urgency in his voice, as if he knew something she didn’t.

Hazel, too sad to say a lot, simply said the word, “Forever.” With that, her father said,

“Forever.” He started to cough, and he looked at his wife and said, “Take care of her.” His breaths started to slow. His hand fell. He had no strength left. He knew this was it. After taking his last breath, he looked at Hazel and repeated, “Forever” and after that, his eyes closed. And they never re opened. Hazel felt for a pulse, and none came. He was as cold as ice.

She ran upstairs and slammed the door shut. She thought to herself, that’s what he was hiding, he knew he was going to die at that moment. She had sobbed so hard that she had passed out. When she came to, she was in a mental hospital. She went home right away, but the memory of the horror was still haunting.

This memory had brought tears to Hazel’s eyes. She wiped them away and opened the box. Inside was a plain note card with only one word. Forever, her father had written in his cursive handwriting that was hard to read.

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