MY OWN JOURNEY

“The leaves drift gently to the ground. The sun shines brightly. A soft breeze brushes by. She lifts her hand to shield her eyes from the golden light.”

“The beautiful apple blossom tree… Its soft pink colors breathe calm into the soul. Her eyes drift into the blush of its petals, lost in their gentle scent. Were flowers always this beautiful, or is it her heart that sees them differently now?”

“Flowers are truly beautiful… forever a delight to the eyes. They are a gentle remedy for the soul, fragrant and pure. A creation so delicate, it harms no one.

And yet—humans, heartless as beasts, tear them from their home… abandon them in vases to wither in silence, waiting only for death.”

“They admire the bloom, but not the life within it. They steal its beauty, display it for a moment, then forget it.

The flower does not scream, it does not beg — it simply fades… quietly, with dignity.

Perhaps that’s why humans never learn. They mistake silence for weakness, and kindness for something to exploit.”

Hazel, enough staring… it’s time to return home.”“Yeah, sure… hold on a second, I’m on my way.”

She walks slowly, turning her head to gaze at the tree.

For a moment, she drifts… lost in thought.

Then, with a quiet breath, she comes back to herself—and continues walking.

She walks up to her friend and gently takes her hand, a bright, soft smile lighting up Hazel’s face.

Shaden: “Oh, it looks like someone’s had a good day.”Hazel: “Haha… actually, not really. Ughhh…”

Shaden: “What’s wrong?”

Hazel: “I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m going home now — I’ll call you later.”

*“Byee…”

Hazel begins to walk slowly toward home, the wind growing softer around her. Her hair falls loose, swaying gently as the breeze plays with it. Once again, she drifts—lost in thought.

*📱 The phone rings.

She snaps back to reality.

Hazel (startled): “Ahh! That actually scared me…”

She takes out her phone to see who’s calling. Her expression shifts. A gentle smile spreads across her face, her cheeks blooming with a soft blush.

“Ryan…?”

She answers, trying to sound casual—though her heart’s not so calm.

Hazel: “Hello?”

Ryan’s voice came through like a breeze on a quiet afternoon—calm, familiar, comforting.

Ryan (laughing softly): “Hehe… hey, Hazel.”

Hazel couldn’t help it—her smile widened, slow and warm.

She held the phone a little closer, as if his voice alone was enough to make her forget everything else.

Hazel: “Hey… you caught me just in time.”

The wind danced gently around her again, but this time, it felt different. Lighter. Like the beginning of something.

Hazel’s thoughts wandered again as she remembered his face —

those kind eyes, the way the light always seemed to find his smile, the softness of his hair, and that gentle curve of his cheek.

Ryan (lightly teasing): “So… where are you now?”

Hazel (grinning): “Thinking about doing something reckless. Wanna join?”

Ryan (laughs): “With you? Always.”

Hazel (smiling, pretending not to be flustered):

“Anyway… I’m almost home now.”

Ryan: “Mmm, alright. I’ll meet you there.”

Hazel (laughs, surprised): “Wait—what?!”

Ryan: “Gotta go. Bye!”

The line clicks.

Hazel stared at her phone, eyebrows raised.

“What was that?” she whispered to herself, shaking her head with a soft laugh. She kept walking, the wind still playing with her hair.

As she reached the corner of her street, her steps slowed.

There he was.

Ryan.

Standing right by her doorstep… next to a bike, grinning like he’d planned this all along.

Hazel (wide-eyed):

“Ryan… what is this?

”Ryan (grinning): “Come ride with me.”

Hazel bursts into a soft laugh, eyes squinting in amusement.

Hazel (teasing): “Are you serious? Since when do you even ride bikes? Are you secretly trying to get me killed?”

Ryan (playfully): “Hurry up, you dork.”

Still laughing, she shakes her head and walks over to him, her heart skipping just a little faster.

Without another word, she gently wraps her arms around his back and settles on the seat behind him.

Ryan’s smile deepens—but he doesn’t turn around. He just says:

Ryan: “Hold on.”

And with that, the bike begins to move — slowly at first, then smoother, carried by the wind and something warmer they both felt but didn’t dare say out loud.

The bike picked up speed, and the world around them turned into a blur of wind and motion.

Hazel’s hair flew wildly behind her, the breeze pulling at every strand — but her arms stayed wrapped tightly around Ryan’s back.

Half in laughter, half in panic, she yelled:

Hazel: “We’re going to diiiie!”

Ryan only laughed louder, his voice caught in the wind — carefree, full of mischief.

He leaned forward slightly and pressed harder on the pedals.

Hazel squealed, tightening her grip, her hands clutching his shirt like it was the only anchor she had.

And in that wild, reckless moment…

she wasn’t sure if it was the speed that stole her breath —

or the way her heart beat faster every time she held on tighter.

Hazel squeezed her eyes shut, her arms tightening around Ryan as the bike sped through the quiet streets.

She couldn’t help it—she started laughing and screaming at the same time.

Hazel (shouting with laughter):

“This is insane, Ryaaaan!”

Ryan (chuckling):

“It’s just a bike ride, Hazel!”

Hazel (still yelling):

“Watch out! Focus! I swear I’m not dying in some ridiculous bicycle accident!”

Ryan burst into louder laughter, the kind that made the wind feel even faster.

Hazel, half-angry and half-horrified, pouted against his back — but within seconds, her frustration melted into a bright, breathless laugh.

She opened her eyes slowly, her breath catching—not from fear anymore, but from the quiet magic of the city around her.

The empty streets stretched ahead, calm and glowing under soft afternoon light.

The buildings passed like dreams — windows open, flowerpots swinging slightly in the breeze.

And cats… little cats curled in corners, stretching lazily under balconies, blinking slowly as the bike flew by.

Hazel forgot she was afraid.

She forgot she was even holding on.

She was simply… there.

The bike slowed, and Ryan gently pulled to a stop.

Ryan (smiling):

“Here we are.”

Hazel (confused):

“The… library?”

Ryan:

“Yup. Best place in the world!”

Hazel (rolling her eyes, smirking):

“You absolute dork. Is this your idea of a date?”

Ryan (grinning like it was the smartest thing he ever said):

“Exactly. The perfect date.”

Hazel let out a small scoff, but a smile tugged at her lips.

Hazel:

“Ugh, you’re ridiculous. Are you in love with books or something?”

Ryan:

“Honestly? Not a bad idea.”

Without warning, he gently reached for her hand and led her toward the entrance.

A soft chime echoed as they stepped inside, the quiet bell at the door greeting them like a whisper.

The air inside was still and warm, filled with the scent of old pages and polished wood.

They walked between the tall shelves, and Ryan’s eyes immediately began scanning the spines of the books — thoughtful, curious, completely in his element.

Hazel (arms crossed, teasing):

“Okay, book boy. Now what?”

Ryan: “I found it!”

Hazel blinked, puzzled.

Hazel: “Found what?”

Ryan: “Just come on—trust me.”

Before she could protest, he gently tugged her hand, leading her toward a cozy little sofa tucked between two tall shelves.

They sat down—close, closer than she expected—and Ryan opened the book on his lap.

Hazel (teasing): “Wait… are you seriously about to read to me? Do I look like I need a bedtime story?”

Ryan (grinning): “Shhh. This is a library, miss.”

Hazel raised an eyebrow… then smirked. Without warning, she pinched his thigh—soft, but just enough to make him flinch.

Ryan twitched, biting his lip to stifle the laughter bubbling up.

Ryan (in a whisper-laugh): “Ow—Hazel!”

A sharp voice echoed from behind a desk.

Librarian: “Shhh!”

Hazel’s eyes widened. She quickly clamped her hand over Ryan’s mouth, both of them trying—failing—to hold back their giggles.

She leaned in and whispered:

Hazel: “You’re such a child.”

Ryan nodded behind her hand, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Their laughter died down into soft little tremors of joy shared between breaths.

They sat like that…

in a quiet library, on a soft little couch, hearts racing for reasons far beyond the book Ryan hadn’t even started reading.

Ryan (clearing his throat dramatically):

“Alright. No more interruptions. I’m about to begin reading—but first, I need to introduce you to the characters.”

Hazel gave a tiny nod, her expression somewhere between curiosity and amusement.

Ryan:

“This fairy here is Amy — totally ridiculous, but kind of poetic in her own weird way.”

He pointed to a small illustration on the page, his eyes lit up like a kid sharing his favorite toy.

Ryan (pointing again):

“And this… is Richard. He’s actually very handsome. Kind of reminds me of someone, don’t you think? Btw?”

Hazel let out a soft, teasing laugh.

Hazel: “Absolutely not. No chance.”

Ryan gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in mock offense.

Ryan: “How dare you.”

But he was laughing, too—shoulders shaking silently, trying to keep it quiet.

Ryan (whispering through laughter):

“Shhhh… you’re gonna get us kicked out!”

Hazel giggled under her breath, covering her mouth, and gave him that look again — the one that said “you’re ridiculous, but I love this.”

And then, finally, Ryan looked down at the book, cleared his throat one more time, and began to read —

his voice low, warm, and somehow… safe.

Ryan continued reading, but Hazel wasn’t really focused on his words.

She was watching his eyes, studying his lips as they formed each letter — like music in her ears.

She drifted off in his voice, a sound that filled her with warmth and a strange sense of peace.

She gazed at his face, as if it were a painting — something quietly beautiful.

She watched him as he read, completely absorbed, his expression calm and focused.

There was something about the way he looked at the pages, the way his voice moved through each line,

that made her forget where she was — and remember exactly how she felt.

Ryan: “Hazel, you dork! Are you even listening to my story?!”

Hazel laughed and snapped out of her daze.

Hazel: “When does this childish story end? I don’t want more of these silly fairy tales.”

Ryan laughed.

Ryan: “Shh. Go back to your silly habits and hush.”

Hazel: “Ughhh…”

Hazel smiled anyway.

Hazel: “Take me home now, please.”

Ryan: “Huh? But isn’t it still too early?”

Hazel: “I have to go… I’ve been through a lot today.”

Ryan frowned a little, gently closed the book, and walked to the bike — waiting for her.

Hazel climbed onto the bike.

There was something off about her—her face was pale, her energy low.

Ryan noticed immediately.

Ryan: “Are you okay?”

Hazel: “Yes, yes… just take me home, Ryan.”

It was clear she was tired, maybe even upset—but Ryan couldn’t quite understand the sudden change in her mood.

⏳ Some time passed.

Ryan: “Alright… we’re here. Your place.”

Hazel stepped off the bike slowly. Her face was pale, her chest felt tight.

Hazel: “Thanks, Ryan. Goodbye…”

Ryan (softly): “Wait. Are you really okay?”

Hazel: “I told you—I’m fine. Don’t be so pushy.”

Ryan paused for a second… then reached into his pocket.

Ryan: “Here. Take this.”

He handed her a piece of candy.

Hazel blinked, a little confused, then gave a small smile.

Hazel: “Do I really seem like a child to you? Haha…”

She took the candy, still smiling—but it was a little tired, a little distant.

Hazel: “Goodbye.”

Hazel began walking toward her house, and with every step, it felt like she was heading straight into hell.

Her father was home today—he hadn’t gone to work.

She opened the door slowly… peeking her head in to check if anyone was there.

She stepped inside, quiet as a whisper.

But as soon as she turned around, she saw him.

Her father.

His face twisted in rage, his eyes burning with hatred.

She felt like he was about to strike her.

Father (with a furious voice): “Where were you?”

Hazel froze. Her voice trembled.

Hazel: “I-I was just… walking.”

He grabbed her wrist—hard.

Father: “Walking? Where?!”

Hazel (scared): “W-With Shaden…”

His grip tightened. Her wrist burned.

Father: “Why didn’t you ask for permission?!”

Hazel: “I—I didn’t know you were awake… I’m sorry…”

He spat on her. Right on her face.

Father (growling): “You’ll always be a filthy whore.”

He leaned in, his voice low and threatening:

Father: “And if I ever find out you’re doing something behind my back—I’ll rip your head off with my bare hands.”

Hazel nodded quickly, tears pouring down her face.

Her heart pounded violently, her knees trembling.

She felt like she might wet herself from the fear.

Her body shook uncontrollably.

He finally let go.

She stood there, frozen… silent… broken.

Hazel turned around and saw her mother. She spoke in a low, angry voice:

Hazel: “Mom, I asked you for permission… what’s the problem?? Why didn’t you defend me?”

Mother (coldly): “You’re in the wrong anyway. Your father’s right. You’re just a disgrace.”

Mother (continued): “And if your father ever ends up hurting you, I’ll testify in his favor if you do anything bad.”

Hazel (shocked): “What?? Why are you taking his side? He hurts you too!”

Mother (sharply): “That’s none of your business, stupid girl! Go to your room now.”

Hazel walked to her room crying.

She wanted to change into something more comfortable so she could rest, but then she remembered the cameras in her room—set up because of her parents’ strange obsession with control.

Still, she knew if she didn’t change her clothes, she might get punished too.

So she accepted it and started undressing, feeling exposed, angry, afraid, and overwhelmed with injustice.

Tears fell from her eyes as she hurried, hoping no one was watching.

Hazel collapsed on her bed, exhausted, when a message popped up on her phone.

She unlocked it slowly. It was from someone she hadn’t expected.

Message: “Hazel?”

A tightness gripped her chest. Her stomach turned.

She forced herself to reply:

Hazel: “Oh, Daddy… hi 🥺🥺…..