Oblivious To Myself, chapter 1
July 15
Hazel dated the top of her journal page in front of her. She bit the back of her pen as she went over her day. She set her pen down and began to write:
More strange stuff happened today. I don't know how or why, but I'll try and explain it the best I can. Today, I levitated a book. In midair. Freaky. Later on, I was being chased by that jerk, Carl. He chased me through the school, till he finally cornered me at a dead end. Fear corsing through my veins, I put my hands up in front of my face in a desperate way to protect myself for a punch that was likely to hit me. I closed my eyes and cringed, bracing for impact....Only the blow never came. I opened my eyes and found myself in the dark of the school janitors closet. It's weird but whenever I'm really angry or scared, something wierd always happens. I don't know if its me or just freaky coincedence. I guess it is just my imagination. Oh well. Maybe I'll never know.
She ended it there. It had been her last day so she guessed that the heat was starting to make her hallucinate. 'Stupid summer-school. Whoever invented it should die.' she thought, putting away her journal. Hazel sat up and absentmindedly stared at her walls, they were covered in poseters; The Ramones, The Clash, Led Zeppelin, Op Ivy, all of her favorite bands. She got up and pulled a record from the pile strewn across her desk. She read the band's name. The Who? She could do with some of that. She put it into her player and turned it on. She softly sang along to her favorite Who song, "My Generation".
Well, People Try To Put Us Down
Talkin' Bout My Generation
Just Because We Get Around
Talkin' Bout My Generation
The Things They Do Look Awful Cold
Talkin' Bout My Generation
I Hope I Die Before I Get Old
Talkin' Bout My Generation
My Generation
Why Don't You All Just Fade Away?
Talkin' Bout My Generation
And Don't Try To Dig What We All Say
Talkin' Bout My Generation
I'm Not Trying To Cause A Big Sensation
Talkin' Bout My Generation
I'm Just Talkin' Bout My Generation
Talkin' Bout My Generation
There was a knock at the door and she looked up.
"Hazel!" said her mother, "Phone!" She handed Hazel the telephone. Hazel took it and lowered the music. She put the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" she said.
She heard people laughing in the background as a voice began to speak, shaking from trying not to burst out laughing.
"Hey Haze," it said.
Oh great. This could only be one person. One person that she would never be in the mood for.
"What do you want?" she snapped.
"I was wondering if you'd come over," it told her now completely obvious that they were going to need serious medical attention of they didn't laugh soon.
"As if, Dursley! Get a life!" she yelled, slamming the phone down onto the reciever.
She couldn't stand him. How had he gotten her phone number, anyway? He was so annoying. Dudley was such a jerk. He lived around the corner from her with that asocial kid, Harry.
Harry actually seemed kind of nice. Or at least, nice to her. She had bumped into him earlier this week, literally. Hazel had been walking down the hall, not paying much attention to her surroundings, when she crashed into an unexpected Harry. They both ended up on the floor, their books askew and Harry's glasses on the other side of the hallway.
Hazel picked up his glasses and returned them as he handed her back her books that he had managed to pick up.
"Sorry," he muttered, shoving his glasses back on and hastily picking up the remaineder of his books as he stood up.
"That's fine," she said. She looked into his eyes. God, they were bright. She tore away as not to risk blinding herself with his startilingly green eyes. They were quiet for a while until Harry broke the silence.
"So, what's your name?" he asked.
"Hazel. You?" she stuck out her hand.
"Harry," he said shaking it.
"Cool."
Then Dudley had come, his infamous gang behind him.
"Making friends, Harry?" he asked mockingly.
His cronies snickered at his comment.
"I-" Harry started.
"What if he was!?!" Hazel cut him off.
"You stay out of this, Wood," Dudley said, addressing Hazel. He looked at her. "Hey, you're kind of cute," he said, grabbing her wrist, "maybe I'll let you two be friends if you go out with me."
Hazel wrenched away. " You're disgusting!" she yelled, scowling, "I wouldn't be you're girlfriend if the survival of mankind depended on it!"
"Oh, Really? C'mon then, Harry," Dudley sneered grabbing Harry's collar and beginning to walk away.
"DON'T YOU HURT HIM!" Hazel cried after them.
'Don't worry' Harry mouthed as he was dragged down the hallway.
Hazel dated the top of her journal page in front of her. She bit the back of her pen as she went over her day. She set her pen down and began to write:
More strange stuff happened today. I don't know how or why, but I'll try and explain it the best I can. Today, I levitated a book. In midair. Freaky. Later on, I was being chased by that jerk, Carl. He chased me through the school, till he finally cornered me at a dead end. Fear corsing through my veins, I put my hands up in front of my face in a desperate way to protect myself for a punch that was likely to hit me. I closed my eyes and cringed, bracing for impact....Only the blow never came. I opened my eyes and found myself in the dark of the school janitors closet. It's weird but whenever I'm really angry or scared, something wierd always happens. I don't know if its me or just freaky coincedence. I guess it is just my imagination. Oh well. Maybe I'll never know.
She ended it there. It had been her last day so she guessed that the heat was starting to make her hallucinate. 'Stupid summer-school. Whoever invented it should die.' she thought, putting away her journal. Hazel sat up and absentmindedly stared at her walls, they were covered in poseters; The Ramones, The Clash, Led Zeppelin, Op Ivy, all of her favorite bands. She got up and pulled a record from the pile strewn across her desk. She read the band's name. The Who? She could do with some of that. She put it into her player and turned it on. She softly sang along to her favorite Who song, "My Generation".
Well, People Try To Put Us Down
Talkin' Bout My Generation
Just Because We Get Around
Talkin' Bout My Generation
The Things They Do Look Awful Cold
Talkin' Bout My Generation
I Hope I Die Before I Get Old
Talkin' Bout My Generation
My Generation
Why Don't You All Just Fade Away?
Talkin' Bout My Generation
And Don't Try To Dig What We All Say
Talkin' Bout My Generation
I'm Not Trying To Cause A Big Sensation
Talkin' Bout My Generation
I'm Just Talkin' Bout My Generation
Talkin' Bout My Generation
There was a knock at the door and she looked up.
"Hazel!" said her mother, "Phone!" She handed Hazel the telephone. Hazel took it and lowered the music. She put the phone to her ear.
"Hello?" she said.
She heard people laughing in the background as a voice began to speak, shaking from trying not to burst out laughing.
"Hey Haze," it said.
Oh great. This could only be one person. One person that she would never be in the mood for.
"What do you want?" she snapped.
"I was wondering if you'd come over," it told her now completely obvious that they were going to need serious medical attention of they didn't laugh soon.
"As if, Dursley! Get a life!" she yelled, slamming the phone down onto the reciever.
She couldn't stand him. How had he gotten her phone number, anyway? He was so annoying. Dudley was such a jerk. He lived around the corner from her with that asocial kid, Harry.
Harry actually seemed kind of nice. Or at least, nice to her. She had bumped into him earlier this week, literally. Hazel had been walking down the hall, not paying much attention to her surroundings, when she crashed into an unexpected Harry. They both ended up on the floor, their books askew and Harry's glasses on the other side of the hallway.
Hazel picked up his glasses and returned them as he handed her back her books that he had managed to pick up.
"Sorry," he muttered, shoving his glasses back on and hastily picking up the remaineder of his books as he stood up.
"That's fine," she said. She looked into his eyes. God, they were bright. She tore away as not to risk blinding herself with his startilingly green eyes. They were quiet for a while until Harry broke the silence.
"So, what's your name?" he asked.
"Hazel. You?" she stuck out her hand.
"Harry," he said shaking it.
"Cool."
Then Dudley had come, his infamous gang behind him.
"Making friends, Harry?" he asked mockingly.
His cronies snickered at his comment.
"I-" Harry started.
"What if he was!?!" Hazel cut him off.
"You stay out of this, Wood," Dudley said, addressing Hazel. He looked at her. "Hey, you're kind of cute," he said, grabbing her wrist, "maybe I'll let you two be friends if you go out with me."
Hazel wrenched away. " You're disgusting!" she yelled, scowling, "I wouldn't be you're girlfriend if the survival of mankind depended on it!"
"Oh, Really? C'mon then, Harry," Dudley sneered grabbing Harry's collar and beginning to walk away.
"DON'T YOU HURT HIM!" Hazel cried after them.
'Don't worry' Harry mouthed as he was dragged down the hallway.
