LOGINHAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The morning sun brought no warmth to Hazel’s frozen heart. She woke up before dawn, as she always did, her body aching and screaming for rest. But rest was a luxury she could never afford. That morning, Xander came out of his room looking sharp and ready to go out. He was in a good mood, probably because he was meeting his friends and Selene. “Hazel!” he called out coldly. “I am leaving today. I will be gone for the whole day and night. Do not expect me back early.” “Yes, Husband,” Hazel whispered, bowing her head. “While I am gone, make sure you work double time,” Xander said, adjusting his tie. “Mother will supervise you. If I come back and hear that you were lazy, I will not be gentle with you.” “I understand,” she said softly. Xander turned and walked away, leaving the house. The moment the car disappeared from the driveway, the atmosphere changed. The fake kindness was gone. Only cruelty remained. Mrs. Kingston walked towards her with a stick in
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The morning sun felt like a punishment rather than a blessing. Hazel woke up feeling like her body was made of glass—fragile, cracked, and ready to shatter. She was so cold, even under the blankets, and her stomach was cramping painfully from the spicy food she had eaten days ago.She stood up slowly, looking at her reflection. She barely recognized herself. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes were sunken, and her skin was as pale as death. She looked like she had been buried alive and dug up again.That morning, Mrs. Kingston decided to clean the water tanks on the roof.“Hazel!” she shouted, throwing a bucket and a rough sponge. “Climb up and scrub the inside of the tanks! I want them spotless! Do not leave any dirt or algae! And be careful not to fall in!”“Yes, Mother,” Hazel whispered.She climbed the steep stairs to the roof. It was incredibly hot. The metal of the tank was burning hot to the touch. She climbed inside the large tank. It was dark, slippery, and f
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The world had become nothing but a blur of pain and exhaustion. Hazel was barely hanging on to life. Her body was so light, so fragile, that she felt like a dried leaf ready to crumble at the slightest touch.One morning, Mrs. Kingston decided that the garden needed to be plowed and planted with new flowers. Since there was no gardener, the job fell entirely on Hazel.“Hazel!” she shouted, throwing a heavy hoe at her feet. “Dig this entire area! Turn the soil! Make it soft! Do not stop until you are done! And do it with your own strength! No machines!”Hazel looked at the vast expanse of hard, rocky ground. It was huge. She picked up the hoe. It was so heavy her arms shook just holding it.She lifted it up and brought it down.Thud!Again and again. Her back was bending, her muscles screaming. She was sweating profusely under the burning sun. Her skin was turning red and hot.By noon, she had only finished a small part. She was so hungry. Her stomach was cramping.
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The pain had become a language she spoke fluently now. Hazel knew every ache, every bruise, every hungry moment by heart. She was so light, so empty, that she felt like she could be blown away by the wind.One morning, Mrs. Kingston decided to move all the heavy furniture from the main hall to the storage room.“Hazel!” she shouted, pointing at the huge wooden cabinets and sofas. “Move all of these! Carry them one by one! Do not scratch the floor! And do it fast! I want this done before lunch!”Hazel looked at the furniture. They were massive. She was just skin and bones. She could barely lift a bucket, how could she lift this?“Mother… it’s too heavy…” she whispered, tears already forming. “I cannot do it alone…”“Liar!” Mrs. Kingston hit her back with a cane. “You are just lazy! You eat too much and you have no strength! Xander is right! You are a useless burden! Move it now or I will hit you until you die!”With a sob, Hazel grabbed the edge of the heavy cabinet
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The warmth from the jacket was nothing but a distant memory, a cruel illusion that vanished as soon as the sun rose. Hazel was back to reality, back to being the invisible servant who existed only to be abused.She had grown so weak that she could barely stand. Her body was nothing but skin and bones, held together by sheer willpower and the fear of pain.One morning, Mrs. Kingston decided to clean the chandeliers."Hazel!" she shouted, pointing at the high ceiling. "Climb up and clean every crystal! I want them shining! Do not drop anything! And be quick!"Hazel looked at the tall, wobbly ladder. She was dizzy. Her hands were shaking. But she climbed up slowly. She was so high up now, looking down at the floor.She started wiping the crystals. But her vision blurred. Her head spun violently.Her hand slipped.CRASH!A large crystal piece fell and shattered on the floor.The sound was deafening.Mrs. Kingston came running. When she saw the broken piece, she went cr
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The fever raged inside her body, burning her from within, but Hazel knew better than to expect mercy. She forced herself out of bed before the sun rose, her legs shaking like jelly, her head spinning so badly she had to hold onto the walls just to move. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was terrifyingly thin. Her skin was stretched tight over her bones, looking like parchment paper. Her eyes were sunken deep into their sockets, surrounded by dark circles. She looked like she was already dead, just walking around. That morning, Mrs. Kingston decided that the entire kitchen floor needed to be scrubbed with a hard brush. “Hazel!” the old woman shouted, throwing a bucket of soapy water and a metal brush at her. “Scrub every inch of this floor! I want it so clean that you can eat from it! Do not stand up until you are done! If you leave even a single stain, you will sleep outside tonight!” “Yes, Mother,” Hazel whispered. She knelt down on the cold, hard tile
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The pain had become so familiar that Hazel barely noticed it anymore. It was like the air she breathed—always there, constant and suffocating. She moved through the days like a ghost, her body thin and frail, barely holding onto life.One morning, Mrs. Kingst
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The days blurred into one long, agonizing cycle. Hazel existed in a state of constant exhaustion, her body running on nothing but willpower and tiny scraps of food. She had grown so thin that her bones were visible beneath her skin, and her face had lost all its color
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV)Darkness engulfed her senses. The pain was no longer a sharp sting, but a dull, heavy ache that had settled deep into her bones. She was burning up, her skin hot to the touch, yet she felt as if ice water was running through her veins.Her breathing was shallow and ragged. Every
HAZEL (AUTHOR POV) The night was long and freezing. Hazel sat huddled in the dark storage room, her body trembling violently. The rain was pouring heavily outside, and the cold wind seeped through the cracks of the walls, biting her skin like needles.She had no blanket. She had no food. Her stoma







