Unlucky Hazel

Hazel led a very boring, uneventful life. She coasted through everything, flashing her pretty, white smile and blinking her gorgeous eyelash extensions. When she sat down to talk with her friends, they all had problems to talk about: problems with clothes, problems with boyfriends, problems with their overbearing parents. Hazel had none of these problems and often had nothing to talk about.

One day, Hazel was getting her car washed while she was returning some clothes at Bloomingdales. They all looked like old people clothes. “What’s the deal?” Hazel asked the car wash attendant, patting herself on the back for not saying “why are you so stupid?”. “I’ve been gone for, like, an hour! Why isn’t my car washed?” Hazel cried while checking her text messages.

“We’re sorry,” said the car wash attendant. “We must have forgot to put you in the queue.”

“Well, put me in the ‘A’ so I can get out of this dumb place! I have a hair appointment!”

After she got her car wash, she wanted a refund for the poor service. The car wash attendant, however, declined her wishes. She was so furious that she told all her friends on Facebook.

“OMG!” wrote Jessie. “That is so lame!”

Karly told her that she should have got that refund.

Beatrice wrote “WTF!” as a reply to one of her comments.

Hazel beamed. She was popular now. All she needed was more stuff like this to happen to her. Except she didn’t really want that. The stress would make her all wrinkly and looking like her mother.

The next day, she was having coffee with her friends and she made up a story about how a car almost hit her and the guy flipped her off. Her friends were paying complete attention to her. That weekend, when she went clubbing with the girls, she told them that a guy just beat her up.

“Beat you up?” Beatrice asked.

“Yeah! He was, like, sexually assaulting me!”

“Where’d he hit you?” Karly gasped.

“My, um… all over, really.”

“Can we see?” asked Jessie, spilling her Cosmo.

Hazel stuttered. “Y… Yeah! Hold on, I have to go throw up.”

She ran off to the bathroom and slammed her arm and face in the bathroom stall door.

“Did you have those bruises on face before?” asked Karly.

“Yes! You’re just drunk! He totally beat me up!”

“We should call the police!” Jessie laughed and almost fell over.

“Yeah. This is pretty serious. What did he look like?”

Hazel bathed in the attention again, talking about the whole experience. The next weekend, she decided to one-up herself.

“My grandma just died!” she told the girls.

They all gasped. “Oh, that’s awful!” they said. “We need to get some drinks in you!”

They treated her to drinks and she got completely blackout wasted. “Wow!” Hazel thought, while throwing up. “My friends only care about me now! How awesome!”

That morning, when she woke up with a hangover big enough to take down a rhino and his mother, Hazel realized that her friends knew her grandma and might see her at the market. Hazel went down to visit her grandma. She took a large axe with her and hacked her into little pieces.

“Wow!” Hazel said. “This is getting way too real!” She flung the Hefty bag full of Grandma into the dumpster.

After a few weeks of getting abducted by Cholos and making friends with a cancer patient kid who died in her arms, her friends became less and less interested in Hazel.

“Wow, Hazel,” Beatrice said. “This is just too real for us.”

“Yeah,” said the other two.

“I know! That’s what I said!”

“No really. It’s just… we can’t be friends with you anymore. You’re too tragic.” Beatrice pushed her hair out of her eyes.

Karly nodded. “Yeah. You’re really unlucky. What if it, like, rubs off on us?”

“Sorry, Hazel,” Jessie said. They pushed their chairs out, adjusted their sunglasses and their bags, and walked away.

“Guys, wait! It didn’t really happen! Guys!” Without looking, she took a sip of her coffee and it burned her tongue. “Ow!” she cried. “Why does everything always happen to me?”


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Filed under Flash Fiction, Session XII

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