Behind Closed Doors

06 - what the fuck?

Hazel's POV:

I open the note and read the date. It's from yesterday.

Dear Hazelnut

You said you wanted to be friends. And I told you we couldn't be. I know I didn't give you an answer as to why. But there is a reason.

Darling, if I became friends with you, you'd see sides of me that would ruin your perspective of me. And I don't want that. I never want that.

I never tell anyone this, no one knows besides Elizabeth (my roommate), but I actually-

"What are you doing?!" She asks coming back in. She snatches the note. I look up at her and remain calm. She's way too angry. I've never seen her this mad before.

"I'm sorry, Nat," I say. She meets my eyes and grabs her bag.

"Fuck you, Hazel!" She storms out.

She dropped the note.

I grab it and run into the bathroom. I lock myself in and sit down.

I actually suffer from extreme PTSD. I was abused, Hazel. And sometimes I have outbursts of anger that I have no control over. I don't want you to become afraid of me.

I would love to be friends with you. But I can't. I can't let myself self-sabotage us. I'm in therapy. I'm working on it. And I promise you the second I feel like I won't hurt you, Haze, I'll tell you.

And then I'll confess everything.

"Hazel, open the fucking door! What the fuck is the matter with you?!" Natalia shouts. She starts to pound on it, and I open it.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?" She repeats. We hold eye contact. This must be what she's talking about. Not being able to control her anger.

"I'm sorry, Nat. I am. I know it was wrong of me, but please don't hurt me. I'll make it up to you. I'll stay away from you as long as you'd like me to. Okay?" I ask, voice breaking. I've never been hit. Ever. I may have heard a "you're useless" or two, but I've never been hit.

Her look softens, and she backs up.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Hazel." She grabs the note and meets my eyes. Tears fall on her face, and she backs up even more.

"You weren't supposed to read this. How much did you read?" She asks.

"Just to the and then I'll confess everything. And then I opened the door. And I saw other pictures of me. The other polaroids. I know I shouldn't have looked, and I'm sorry I did, I just got so curious. I thought about what you said. About the right one will always find you beautiful." I meet her eyes.

"And I look terrible in almost all of those. So.. I thought maybe you were talking about yourself. That you're the right one for me. And I just- I went on autopilot."

"You're not the right one for me, Hazel. You're too pure."

"We could start off as friends, though, Nat."

"No. Hazel.. I'm going to hurt you. If not physically I'm going to hurt you emotionally. And I don't want that to happen. And that may make you sad now, but trust me, I am sparing you so much pain in the future."

"You could grow with me, Natalia. And if you hurt me I'd forgive you. I understand PTSD. I get it." We hold eye contact.

"I can't be your friend, Hazel."

"Please," I whisper.

"Why? Why do you want to be friends with me so bad, Hazel?" She steps closer to me.

"You seem great, Nat. Please." I grab her shirt, and she pulls me closer toward her. Her hands rest on my waist, and she searches my eyes.

"Read the fucking note, Hazel." She hands it to me. I sit down and start back where I left off.

Everything meaning you are the most beautiful person I've ever met. I take pictures of you whenever I think it. I think it all the time, but when I want to remember what you look like in the moment, I'll take a picture. So far, you've yet to notice. Or maybe you do.

And I know how that sounds. But, I promise I don't get off to your photos. I keep them for when I need a reminder that everything will be okay. You're my light against the chaos, Hazel. When shit is going wrong, your presence calms me down.

As much as I want to be friends with you, I can't, love. I'll end up snapping. Or saying something I don't mean.

Also, my past is the reason why we're rivals.

If I ever give this to you, or if you ever find it, I'll explain it to you. Ask me. I'll tell you the truth.

But after I do, I don't want to talk about it ever again.

"Why are we rivals?" I ask looking up at her. She sighs and sits down diagonally to me. She presses her head against the wall and closes her eyes.

"My mom was.. valedictorian. And she wanted me to be just like her. She thought hitting me was the way to make me learn." I frown. The pieces are starting to form.

"But then she and my father got a divorce. She got full custody, and the abuse became a lot worse," she says.

I'm going to find her mother's address.

"There would be days where she would call me useless and a failure. That I would make it nowhere in life. I'll end up working in the fast food industry for the rest of my life. Every failing grade, which was lower than an A, by the way, I wouldn't eat dinner. She'd starve me."

That hits close to home. Except, it wasn't my mother's fault. She didn't choose to starve me.

"It would come to the point where my teachers would catch on. And they'd always put in As. We had countless CPS visits, but.. nothing worked." Tears fall on her face, and she walks out.

"Wait," I say following her out. I turn her around and hug her.

"I'll never compete with you about another test score again, Nat."

A/N- "wHaTs ThE pOiNt oF a RiVaLs tO lOvErS bOoK iF iT oNlY lAsTs FiVe ChApTeRS?" Shut up. We've already fucking established I'm terrible at slow burn, also, this isn't a love confession.

Thank you very much.

I love all of you lots!! 🧡