My Dangerous Mafia

HAZEL

"Third complaint this month, Hazel. Third!" Bob slammed his hands on his desk. "And this time you actually hit a customer?"

I sank into the chair opposite him and smiled as I recalled the satisfying moment of slapping that creep who wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. It felt good to fight back, even if I knew it only added to my troubles.

But I should have known better by now. Standing up for myself never ended well - it just gave everyone another excuse to remind me how different I was, how I didn't fit in.

These reminders came daily. In the stares of strangers, in the whispered conversations they thought I couldn't hear, in the way people either avoided me entirely or got too close for comfort.

My crime? Being born with hair and eyes of pure Gold. Not the fake bottle blonde or amber that you might assume, but actual metallic gold.

The doctors called it a genetic anomaly. The kids at school called me a freak. I just called it my curse. And tonight, that curse had cost me again when a drunk customer wouldn't keep his hands to himself.

"He wouldn't stop trying to grab my hair," I said, knowing it wouldn't matter. The customer was always right, even when they were wrong. "What was I supposed to do?"

Bob sighed. "Handle it professionally? Not cause a scene in the middle of my diner? Look, Hazel, I took a chance hiring you. I knew your... unique appearance might attract attention, but I thought you could handle it."

"I did handle it. He learned to keep his hands off women. Maybe you should learn that lesson too." I met his gaze.

"Get out of my diner.” He spat.”Freaks like you aren't worth the trouble."

I didn't even argue any further. What was the point? I'd known this was coming from the moment I'd raised my hand. I yanked off my apron and tossed it on his desk. "Fine. Have a nice life."

I stormed out of Rosie's Diner with a racing mind. Another job lost. Another failure to add to the growing list. All because of my stupid hair and eyes.

I'd never asked for this. Never wanted to be different. Not only did my hair and eyes set me apart, but my senses were unnaturally sharp.

I could see things others couldn't, hear whispers from across a room. It was both a gift and a curse, making it even harder to feel normal. And yet here I was, seventeen years old, and I couldn't even hold down a waitressing job. All because of these 'gifts' I never asked for.

Sometimes I wondered if this was why Dad had sent me away after Mom died. if he'd known somehow that my differences would only get more pronounced with time.

The memory of that night swept over me without warning, as vivid as if it had happened yesterday instead of nine years ago. The smell of smoke that had yanked me from sleep. The heat pushing against my skin. Dad's terrified face, bundling me into the car and driving through the night leaving Ravenville town behind us.

I was only nine then, too young to understand why Mom didn't come with us, too shocked to question why Dad kept looking in the rearview mirror as if expecting something to chase us. The official story was that Mom died in the fire – a tragic accident, they said.

We never went back. Within days, I was shipped off to live with Aunt Jenna in the city, while Dad stayed behind in Ravenville. "It's not safe," he'd insisted, though he never explained what exactly wasn't safe. All I knew was that something about that fire had terrified him enough to send his only daughter away.

But I tried not to dwell on the past. I had one good thing left in my present life:Jake. My boyfriend. The one person who seemed to get me, who didn't care about my weird looks or fiery temper.

I pulled out my phone, sent him a quick text. "Bad day. Coming over."

His apartment was only a few blocks away, but something felt wrong the moment I arrived. The potted plant by his door, the one he obsessively maintained lay toppled, soil scattered across the welcome mat. I frowned, fishing out the spare key he'd given me.

The apartment was dim, but I could hear muffled sounds coming from his bedroom. My heart rate picked up. Was he okay?

"Jake?" I called out, moving towards his room. "You wouldn't believe the day I've had—"

I pushed open the door and froze. The world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Jake was there alright but so was Mia, my best friend. They weren't sitting on the couch playing video games or studying.

Their naked bodies were pressed against each other, skin to skin. Mia’s moans filled the air as Jake drove into her. I slapped myself hard to be sure I wasn't dreaming, and they both turned around.

"Hazel!" Jake scrambled off Mia and nearly fell, which I wished he had. "God, I... This isn't..."

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The whole room felt like it was spinning around me.

Mia sat up, not even bothering to cover herself. "Well, this is awkward."

I found my voice finally. "How long?"

Jake fumbled for his shirt. "Hazel, please. Just let me explain. It's not what you think."

Not what you think. The same lame excuse every cheating boyfriend uses. I'd heard it in movies a thousand times, but I never thought I'd hear it in real life, especially not from Jake.

"How. Long." I repeated, my fists already clenched at my sides.

He started approaching me with his hands raised like I was some wild animal he was trying to calm. "Haze, I'm sorry. I just... I can't do this anymore."

Mia snorted. "Don't sugar-coat it, Jake. Tell her the truth. Tell her how you're sick of dating a freak who won't let you touch her. How you're tired of the stares, the whispers. Tell her how you want a normal girlfriend who doesn't hide in clothes three sizes too big."

I glanced down at my oversized hoodie and jeans, suddenly feeling exposed. They didn't understand. They couldn't. The comfort these clothes gave me, the security of not being ogled or touched without permission.

"Is that true?" I asked Jake, searching for any sign of denial.

He couldn't meet my eyes. "Hazel, I... It's just hard sometimes. I just can't deal with it anymore. The way guys look at you, how you flinch when I try to touch you. I don't even know what you really look like under all those layers."

I laughed bitterly. "So this is my fault? Because I don't dress like some Barbie doll for you?"

"That's not what I meant!" Jake protested.

"Enough!" I spat. "You want to see what's under the baggy clothes? Fine."

In a fast motion, I yanked off my hoodie. Jake's eyes widened as he took in the curves I usually kept hidden. For a moment, I savored the shock on their faces. Then shame and anger washed over me. I shouldn't have to prove anything to them.

I pulled my hoodie back on already feeling dirty. "Happy now? This what you wanted to see?"

Jake stammered, "Hazel, I... you're beautiful. I didn't know—"

"You're right. You didn't know. And now you never will."

I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. Jake's pleas followed me down the stairs, but I didn't stop. I couldn't. If I did, I'd fall apart right there.

Somehow, I ended up back at Aunt Jenna's apartment. I fumbled with my key, hands shaking, and stumbled inside. The place was empty - Aunt Jenna must still be at work.

I made it to my room before the sobs hit. Collapsing onto my bed, I let out all the pain, all the betrayal, all the anger. How could they do this to me? Jake, who I thought understood me. Mia, who I'd trusted with my secrets.

As the tears subsided, my eyes fell on a framed photo on my nightstand.

Me and Darryl, back in my hometown. We couldn't have been more than ten.

My heart clenched. Darryl. My childhood best friend, the one person who never made me feel different or strange. We were inseparable once, until that night I left. I never got to even say goodbye.

I don't know what possessed me, but suddenly I was on my feet, shoving clothes into a bag. The photo of Darryl and me went in too, carefully wrapped in a sweater.

Then, solemnly, I gathered my collection of paranormal novels - stories of werewolves, vampires, and otherworldly creatures that had been my escape for so long. I can't bear to leave them behind.

My hand went to my neck, fingers brushing the silver pendant that hung there. Dad's words echoed in my mind: "Never take it off, Hazel. Promise me." I didn't understand why, but I'd kept that promise faithfully.

As I zipped up the overstuffed bag, I realized I didn't know where I was going, just that I couldn't stay here.

The front door opened. "Hazel?" Aunt Jenna called. "What's Wrong? What are you doing?"

I froze, staring at the bag in my hands. What was I doing?

Aunt Jenna's eyes widened as she took in my tear-stained face.

"Hazel? What happened?"

What happened? My entire life had imploded, that's what. And suddenly, I knew exactly where I needed to go.

I turned to face my aunt. "I'm going home," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Then, as if someone else was speaking through me, I heard my voice rise very strong and clear.

"I'm going back to Ravenville."