Category Archives: fiction

March 21, 2013 · 12:39 am

Monster VIII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/20/13

“AAAAHHH,” I screamed in pain as Footsteps dragged me to a standing position.

My friend, Syringe, hadn’t come to visit me in…well…long enough for me to be in pain for hours…days…weeks…
Ever since I had come to this dreaded dungeon of horror, standing had not happened. I hadn’t thought about my legs, never mind using them. As he held me upright, I realized my ankles were not the only things Syringe was nursing. There were constant darting pains in my back. I had expected pure waste to engulf my nakedness, but my vertical stance proved me wrong. At some point, someone had washed me.

Footsteps let go of me, which sent me crashing to the floor. My legs had forgotten their function. They had not had to support me since I came here. “UP!” he shouted at me. “UP!” with a quick snatch of my arm I was upright. I wobbled under the excruciating pain. “WALK!” he shouted at me again. His insanity was maddening. Although there was no longer swelling in my ankles, their obvious purple hue should have told their own story. “WALK!” He grabbed my wrists and pulled me towards him, forcing my wrenching first steps. “AAAAHHH!” I screamed with my second.

Maniacal appeared behind Footsteps, “There you go. You didn’t think we brought you here to rot away did you? You have to get those legs of yours nice and strong again. You have a lot of work to do. You were a bad girl and now you have to make right.”

He turned me around and tore something from my back. “Ah, your sores have healed nicely. How are those ribs of yours?” He came inches from my face, “You’re mine. Don’t get any ideas. I own you for the rest of your life. You do anything I don’t like, well, then you’re his,” he turned to a smiling Footsteps who placed his hand down his pants.

They left and I collapsed to the floor. I dragged myself to the wiry cot and I heard Hope again. “Hello. Hello. Is anyone there?” It was almost a whisper, but so crystal clear. “I know you’re here. I hear you cry out at night. Where are you?”

“I..I..I’m here. I just don’t know where here is. Or where your ‘here’ is. Who are you? I think I heard you say my name the last time. Do you know where we are?” I didn’t want to stop talking to Hope. I didn’t want Hope to leave me again.

“They’re coming. I hear them. Whatever you do, don’t tell them anything. They don’t know anything. Remember that. They know nothing. But we know everything.” Hope disappeared to the sound of Footsteps returning.

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March 19, 2013 · 6:57 pm

Monster VII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/19/13

I had to escape. Things I never thought I would l have to tell myself. Being bound and broken in a damp darkened basement was for the movies, it definitely wasn’t meant for my reality. I was going to chalk up my captivity to weeks at this point. It wasn’t due to counting the sun rises and sets, but the healing of my wounds, or lack of, at this point.

My ankles were far from healing. They left me begging for the drug that kept me captive. I fought my eyelids for mere seconds after the syringe delivered my only joy. Was I awake? Who is calling me? I floated to an upright position, I think. I was standing at the wall, but I knew I couldn’t stand. What’s happening? Who’s calling me?

There it was again. My name. A woman was calling my name.
“Hello,” I responded this time. I think I did. I couldn’t hear my voice, but I know I responded.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
“Come here. Please help me,” the voice pleaded. But the voice was not that of a woman, but a child.
“Hello. What’s your name? Who are you?” this conversation was the closest thing I had to hope. “Ssshh. Don’t say anything. Pretend you’re asleep,” I warned as I heard heavy footsteps.

The footsteps stopped in front of my door. I rushed to my bed before they could inflict any damage to my body. As the door swung open, I realized I had never moved from my bed. I still lay strapped to the bed in archaic leather restraints. The conversation was in my head. My hope was in my head. I was alone here, with this animal.

I turned my head to see where the footsteps were. Focus eluded me, with only the faint light from the hallway. This had to be my mealtime, which I’m not sure, but maybe a day had passed since I had received my last serving of the red concoction.

Footsteps approached me with the food and smiled viciously. I knew his thoughts before he spread my legs with his foot. He fumbled with his belt buckle and dropped the food to the floor.

“Now, now, that’s not how we treat our guests. Go and get her some more food,” Maniacal whispered from the doorway. How could I be happy to hear the man who was the cause of all this? How could I want to thank him?

“I’m sorry for his behavior. He was raised with no manners. Now how are those ankles of yours coming?” He reached over and I’m not sure if he touched me. Pain was normal, so what was pain? “Healing just right. You’ll be ready to leave in a few more weeks. And when you leave this time, you’ll do it right.”

© Mia L. Hazlett 2013

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January 12, 2012 · 5:01 pm

In My Head

In My Head
By: Mia L. Hazlett
1/12/12

This is just weird. Mommy never drives us to school. I can’t really tell, but I think she’s been crying. Her eyes are all red and stuff, but I don’t see any tears and she said she is fine. I think she mostly cries in the shower. I can kinda hear her even though the water is running. My little sister plays with her little toys as we pull up to her daycare. Mommy tells us to stay in the car as she goes and rings the doorbell. When the door opens, I can’t see my sister’s teacher, but I see Mommy talking and then she hugs whoever is behind the door.

We pull off and I wave to my sister. This is not the way we do it with Daddy. I get dropped off first then her. I don’t like this way. There’s no music. At least we usually have music. I want to tell her I know everything. I heard their fight last night even though they closed the door. I hate it when they fight. I don’t think Daddy came home last night and that is why she is driving us. But his car may have been in the garage and that is why I didn’t see it in the driveway.

I’m just gonna tell her I know everything. I’m gonna say I hear her cry in the shower. I’m gonna tell her when she and Daddy fight I don’t like it. And I will tell her that I don’t want them to get a divorce either. I’m gonna tell her I want every day to be like that vacation we took last year. When we went out to eat and took all the pictures and they never had one fight the whole time we were there. They even slept in the same bed and they kissed and held hands at the restaurant. That’s what I want every day to be like.

Once she stops the car I’m gonna tell her everything before I go into school.The car stops and Mommy gets out and comes to my side to open the door. She stoops down and gives me a big hug, “I love you honey.” I wipe away the tear from her eye, “I love you too Mommy.” She takes my hand and we walk up the front steps to school. I hope she couldn’t tell what I was thinking. I mean I know my mom cries, but I never see the tears. I guess I can wait ‘til later to tell her what I want. Because this is kinda nice too, holding hands with my mom as she walks me into school. She never does this. She only comes to my plays and stuff. I wish that every day could be like this too. So for now, I’ll just keep those other thoughts in my head.

© 2012 Mia L. Hazlett

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Filed under children, divorce, family, fiction, In My Head, motherhood, sisterhood

September 30, 2011 · 1:54 am

Taken VI

Taken IV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/29/11

I scrubbed my body, hoping to wash Mark and his lust away. He disappeared all day yesterday. There was actually joy when I eased myself between my sheets last night. Usually he didn’t come home for days. I prayed for a reprieve. Unfortunately, he returned home horny at close to three in the morning.

I turned the water off and stepped from the shower. My hair dripped as I lightly toweled off my bruised body. I breathed a bit easier, but I needed to take my mind off of me and stay hopeful for my Jessie’s return. Even though our fight destroyed the lamp on my nightstand, I was able to save my night stand picture of Jessie. I slept with the picture under my pillow every night.

Obviously there was nothing I could do, but this picture was the last piece of Jessie had, less her bedroom. For some reason, Mark had taken down all of her pictures. The first week, he worked relentlessly with the police. Now it seemed like he was over her. I couldn’t understand and that led to our disagreement the other night. Although I wanted my home plastered with her face, I couldn’t endure another thrashing. I curled back under my sheets and clung to my angel’s picture.

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September 29, 2011 · 1:09 am

Monster VI

Monster VI
By: Mia L. Hazlett
9/28/11

Was I really in my bed? It didn’t seem real, but here I was. My room reflected order, but my memory obeyed a reality I struggled to comprehend. I remember darkness, crashing, and a deep relentless pain. Finally I swung my feet to the side of my bed and stood. The sun beamed through my white window sheers shining brightness on my new day.

Although I stood surrounded by perfection, a putrid odor wafted through the air. Each inhale strengthened the sickening feeling within me. I gagged and coughed. The cough buckled me and a searing pain engulfed my torso. As I held my stomach, I inched my way to the top of my stairwell. My blurry stare outlined a massive human silhouette. Even though I stared down my stairs, the figure loomed over me.

I released my torso and straightened my back. The looming figure seemed to be made of air as I grabbed for it to steady myself. With no contact made, I lost my balance and tumbled head over heels down the stairs. I writhed in excruciating pain, but still the looming figure remained over me.

I couldn’t tell if the touch came from it or me, but this time I could feel something near my feet. The more my eyes struggled to remain open and focus, the darker my surroundings became. It felt as though my feet were being lifted into the air, as the darkness encompassed me. I could see my stairwell, but with the diminished sunlight that had so recently illuminated my upstairs, I couldn’t see past the second step.

I tried to turn away from the stairs and onto my back, but with the reintroduction of the putrid odor, I released my stomach contents with a hurl. Now I was back in the small room. Instead of the floor, I was on a wiry raised cot. My legs were taped together on a slat of plywood, which did not allow me to turn my body. My stomach contents soaked my hair, and I realized the stench was me. I don’t think it was the first time I threw up, nor had I been afforded the opportunity to use a bathroom.

As the blurry figure came into focus, I remembered the sledgehammer. Immediately I tried to move my feet, but I couldn’t feel them. The man came closer to me with some sort of syringe in his hand. As the needle was merely inches from my arm, the door opened. The maniacal laugh sent me back to my sunny bedroom as the contents of the syringe emptied into my arm. I was home again.

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April 9, 2011 · 4:43 am

Conundrum (Part IX)

Conundrum (Part IX)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/8/11

I debated most of the week whether we would attend the family reunion his aunt invited us to. I thought about it over and over and went with no. I realized my ex (I was still trying to get used to saying that)signed us away. But the problem was, my oldest wasn’t aware of it yet. She still had hope. I had spent all this time trying to lift her spirits with hope. Seeing him at the reunion would crush all her hopes.

I thought I was doing the right thing as a mother, but now I realized how absolutely detrimental hope can be when it is unrequited. He had never hoped for us. Our tears, our love, and our hope were all unrequited. As I cradled my oldest in my arms, I had to question, with these lost hopes so fresh, how was I going to teach her to hope again?

Because at such a tender age, I could not allow her to abandon hope. For without hope in her life, I could not teach her to have faith. Right now it wasn’t about having faith that her hopes would come to pass, but in having faith that God closed the right door and opened one that would exceed abundantly everything she had ever hoped for.

The new doorway was not the source of my angst. I didn’t recognize the woman walking through it. There was a grace and warmth that radiated. Her worries and fears had been cast aside in the light of her newfound hope of peace. And it was because of this hope, God opened the door of Peace. Through all she had carried her family through, she finally turned in the key to Drama, and entered Peace.

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Filed under blessings, children, Christian, Conundrum, daughters, divorce, faith, fiction, God, hope, motherhood

April 7, 2011 · 1:34 pm

Macy VI

Macy VI
By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/7/11

I woke on Saturday and turned to the #3 envelope on my nightstand. The plan was to read it before I fell into La-la Land, but I wasn’t sure of the content, so I chose sleep. So as held it in my hand, I said a little prayer first. I didn’t know what piece of my ancestry it held for me, but I had to get to know my grandmother since I had now forgiven her.

Well Macy, it wuz not reel nise livin wit my Momma aftr everythin dat dun happend. Wut waznt makin hur happy wuz the frend dat I made in the sistur ov the boy who dun hurt my familee. Hur name wuz Mary. Mary wuz hur name Macy and she uz my frend.

Like I dun told you before Macy my Momma dun cleend the house ov the peeple dat dun killd hur famlee. She startd takn me to wurk with hur. 1 day I wuz cleenin in the kitchin with Momma and Miz Mary came in. Momma kept cookin’ and I kept cleenin the floor. Miz Mary wantd to eet hurself sum lunch so Momma dun made hur a food. Az Momma wuz makin hur food, Miz Marys Momma came in. We dun calld hur Mz. Suzana.

I dont know wut dun hapend in dat dur kitchin Macy but it wuz sumpin. It wuz cuz there wur women in dat kitchin Macy. There wuz a hole bunch of quiet in there, but sumpin dun hapend dat nevr culd ov hapend back den. I meen az far az beein leegul an all. We all dun sat at dat table an ate food togethr. No culurd folk evr got to eet food wit white folk. Dat just nevr hapend. But Macy Mz. Suzana dun sad sumpin to Momma dat made hur cry. She dun said, I sorry. I sorry dat my boyz and huzbin dun hurt your famlee. And den she dun touchd my hand and dun squeezd it. She dun squeezd my hand Macy.

Dat day wuz dat day Macy. It nevr hapend again. But hur sun nevr tuched me again. He dun nevr even lookd at me no more. So dat day wit Miz Mary and Miz Suzana kinda made things beter livin wit Momma. I think Momma got hur sum more money from Miz Suzana and I sure nuf got all of Miz Marys to small cloze. And becuz of dat day Macy you have all this money. Cuz Miz Suzana sqeezd my hand you have this money.

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Filed under daughters, fiction, Macy, racism

April 6, 2011 · 3:44 pm

Monster V

Monster V
By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/6/11

They didn’t take Silhouette with them, so I muscled through all the pain to turn my back to her. I couldn’t stomach the blood pooled around her lifeless body. The hopelessness of my situation battled my need to escape. I couldn’t die here. I knew they would kill me, but when? How? I had to escape.

I turned my body flat on its back. I needed to put myself through a self-check to see what parts still worked. It began with my legs. There seemed to be nothing wrong with them. A slight soreness in my right thigh from the trunk ride, but I knew I could stand, walk, and run. Check, check, and check. My arms themselves could move fine, but the torso they were attached to could not withstand their mobility. I was sure I had at least a broken pinkie on my right hand and a broken wrist on my left. My entire front and back took most of the punishment, so I felt sore all over. My ribs offered the most pain of all. Inhaling was kept to short intakes. Next in line to my torso, was my head and face. They caught their own set of treatment from being hurled into my dresser and pulled off of my bed feet first.

The only thing I could think of next was to stand. I had been laying on this floor since they put me in here. I didn’t think a day passed, but I wasn’t for sure. I had to turn to my stomach and push myself up with my right arm. My left wrist wouldn’t be able to take any weight. I was able to roll gently to my right side and then I rested. I was now staring into the dead eyes of Silhouette. I had to do everything I could to avoid her lifelessness. I pushed and was now on my knees, when I heard footsteps.

By the time I got back to my fetal position the door swung open. There was only one set of footsteps approaching me from behind. I wished I had laid facing the door instead of the wall. A heavy hand swung my shoulder and swiftly had me on my back. Before I knew what was happening, there was a small heavy sledgehammer pounding my left ankle. “It seems like you were getting some ideas,” he said before he then hammered my right ankle and I passed out.

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April 6, 2011 · 1:43 pm

Taken V

Taken V
By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/6/11

Voz walked around the back to the warehouse entrance. The door buzzed and he took the steps by two to the meeting room. He dropped the duffel bag on the floor and opened the metal locker. He exchanged duffel bags and sat at the beat up card table to examine the contents as Kev appeared in the doorway.

They hadn’t seen each other in almost two months after the debacle of a kidnapping. They had to meet with Mark, he was the head of all this, and had summoned this meeting. They sat at the table in silence, until they heard the ring of the backdoor bell. Kev got up and buzzed the door. He could see in the monitor there was a small figure coming in behind him.

They exchanged looks. Voz let his glock rest in his lap and Kev kept his box cutter up his sleeve. Mark walked in holding his stepdaughter’s hand. He smiled broadly, then bent and whispered into her ear. The little girl left the room and Mark circled the table.

“Gentlemen, there’s a problem. I think you know what it is. And I’m a bit annoyed, because I’m sure I paged three and I only see two. Why two, when there should be three? Anyone?” He ceased his pacing and waited for a response.

Voz spoke up, “She’s dead. I’ve checked for reports and there’s nothing. Nobody is looking for her.” The fist that caught him in his jaw reeled him backwards and sent his glock sliding across the floor under the lockers.

“Are you stupid?” Mark boomed. “Is this some kind of joke to you. Do you not get what is going on? This was supposed to be a simple kidnapping. You take her, keep her, demand a ransom, we get the money, we disappear. Do you know how much she’s worth? And now you go and kill the scapegoat?”

Voz picked himself off the floor and stood. He tasted blood when he swallowed and wiped the small trickle from the corner of his mouth. ” I found the kid. If it wasn’t for me, we wouldn’t have her back.” Voz attempted to defend himself.

“You found her after she was spotted and the sighting was reported to the cops. They tracked her back to The Spot. They found blood there and no body. They are looking for the body. Now that they have blood, they have DNA. With DNA they can identify who she was.” Mark was inches from Voz’s face.

“They aren’t going to find the body to do any DNA match. Trust me,” Kev said.

“Why should I trust either one of you? You are both fuck ups. They don’t need a body. Need I remind you she is a convict? She’s already in the system. Now they are looking for her and the kid. Tomorrow it’s back on. Do you hear me? It’s back on. There is no margin for error this time. You will be provided details tonight.”

“Daddy, can we go?” Jessie appeared in the doorway.

“Yes baby. Daddy’s coming.” Mark took his stepdaughter’s hand and left.

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Filed under children, fiction, kidnapping, Taken

March 16, 2011 · 5:57 am

Monster IV

Monster IV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
3/16/11

I couldn’t say anything. Through the dim light and the small slit in my right eye, I saw a lean silhouette approaching me. I wasn’t sure if I turned my head towards her voice, but she was now whispering in my ear, “They’re going to kill us. I think I’ve been here for two or three days, I’m not sure. They got me on Sunday. Do you know what day it is?” I knew I had been brought down here with the dawning of a new day. If it was still the same day right now, then it was Friday. I went to bed Thursday night and they took me Thursday night. Today was Friday.

I don’t know if I told her it was Friday or was just thinking it, but our conversation or my thoughts were interrupted by steps outside of my small dungeon. The clang of the lock set Silhouette into an uncontrollable tremble. Her relentless grasp tortured my arm with a pain, but my mind transferred to that pain, rather than the aching of my ribs. I returned her tremble as the step with the light knock I heard at my house came into earshot, step, knock, step, knock… and then the maniacal laugh. She was right, they were going to kill us.

Silhouette screamed as they tore her from my side. I’m not sure if I reached out to hold her or if she had just not released her grip from my arm. I believed the latter, because she tore my sleeve and I now saw it dangling from her weak fist. She was thrown against the wall opposite me and all I could do was watch as Maniacal slammed his cane across her face. When I tried to turn away from her second blow, I was placed in a choke hold and made to watch as they beat her to death. She was right, they were going to kill us.

Maniacal crawled towards my face as it was thrown back to the ground. His low whisper terrorized more than his laugh, “You thought you could escape me? You thought I was going to never find you? I found you four years ago. How do you like that? I’ve been watching every little thing you do for the past four years. I could of taken you at 6:00 am in the parking lot at the park where you jog every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday morning. I helped you when you dropped your keys trying to get in your car after you bought your coffee and newspaper like you do every morning on the way to work. You let me come into your house and repair your air conditioner. I’ve been everywhere you go for the past four years. You can’t hide from me. I found you. I’ve got you. And just between you and me, you’re going to die here.” She was right, they were going to kill us.

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