História The Psychotic Life of Hazel James - 1

"Pain is hilarious on other people."

- Naia 

You know for once in my life I wish I could wake up normally, a loud alarm clock, throwing my pillow at it, sleeping for another hour. That sounds like a beautiful dream, instead I wake up to the sounds of screams. A normal person would see what the hell is going on, however I'm not normal, and once, when I was seven I made the mistake of checking. Needless to say I was completely scarred for life, but seeing a woman in her mid twenties covered in her own blood, her hand a bloodied stump, will scar you.

"Hazel get your ass up," screamed an annoying voice. Me, being the wonderful person that I am, ignored her. "Hazel, I said get your ass up, how dare you keep me waiting!" 

I groaned into my pillow, three more mintues, three more minutes. "HAZEL!" The annoying harpy screech. Against every fiber in my being I got up, got dressed, and walked into the kitchen where my horrible family was waiting. Everyone (but my dad) sat at the table, Rachel (the harpy that was calling me) drummed her fingers on the table. Her dark brown eyes stared me down. "What. Took. You. So. Long," she basically growl.

"I was getting ready," I casually said, taking my seat next to the oh, so quiet, Jeff. 

Rachel's eyes roamed me head to toe, she snorted. "Yeah I'm not a dumbass, you put no effort in your clothes."

I didn't respond, instead I gave my best smile. I learned long ago that one wrong move and I can end up in the hospital. Nick leaned back in his chair, giving us his charming smirk. "So mom, did you complete your 'job?''

Our mother, Sandra James, gave Nick a cold stare. "That's none of your concern," she responded. Her job was a secret, no one knows  what the heck she does, all we know is that she pays the bills. 

Nick pouted. "Can't you tell us mother dearest?"

"No."

"Please, mother, I'm dying to know."

"No, now if you want to bother someone call up one of your whores," mother said, her face still cold and emotionless.

Nick laughed, his charming smile turning into something far more terrifying. "Their no fun. Hehe, they don't like pain, apparently, they always bitch and complain, it's really fucking annoying." 

Rachel raise an eyebrow "you find it annoying? Doesn't look that way when you take them into your room, you seem to enjoy watching them cry."

Nick shrugs "Your point? Don't you like seeing your little boy toys suffer? It's really fucking satisfying."

Can I leave this conversation? Please. I keep quiet, eating my breakfast and occasionally looking up. Rachel nods. "You got a point, seeing them grovel at my feet, pleading for me to kick them or slap them." She laughs. "Honestly it's so much fun."

Sick. You people are sick. Jeff stays quiet the whole time, and the screams get quieter and quieter. By the time I head to school, I'm praying that I have a good normal day. I never have a 'normal' day.