Part 1 || Hazel Windsor

Hazel was homeschooled as a child. Her parents, Xira and Evander Windsor, loathed public schools, as well as private ones, because it would “seem to people that Hazel was inferior and ordinary ‘just like’ all the other students”. 

Their daughter should have the “best education”. Well, that was what her mother always told her whenever she asked. 

As a child, Hazel had believed them, thinking her parents could do her no wrong. But as time flew by, she felt herself getting lonely. Her tutor was switched for another monthly, so there was no way she could get close to any of them—not close like an actual friend—before getting the notification that they were going to be soon dismissed because of some so-called excuse. 

 

How was the secretly curious girl supposed to believe her parents, without proof, that her teachers had actually left because of those so-called “reasons”? She’d been raised in a very educational environment—with no other children her age—after all. 

 

A ten-year-old Hazel sat on a chair, patiently waiting for her tutor. When will she come? It’s been five minutes, and Miss Celestine hadn’t arrived yet. Something like despair settled in her mind—still, Miss Celestine could be just running late. 

Half an hour later, however, she found out that that wasn’t the case. 

“Miss?” Hazel called out meekly at the woman that had been her tutor for nearly two years. She was packing her bag. 

“Miss? Where are you going?” The girl repeated, confused. A shiver ran through her body, cold as ice. Somehow, she’d guessed what Miss Celestine was going to say before she even spoke. But before she did, a hand was on her shoulder, making her turn to an extremely stern-looking Evander. 

“Miss Celestine Voss will no longer be teaching you. Attachment does not suit this household, and therefore I have chosen a new tutor for you.” 

When the lady whom Hazel had seen everyday for two entire years turned around to look at her at last, she smiled sadly, almost like she didn’t want to go. Like she didn’t want to be replaced. Like she enjoyed Hazel’s presence and didn’t want to leave, unless she was forced to.

 

For two whole weeks the lonely girl did not leave her house. She refused to get out and get fresh air, isolating herself from Father, Mother, and her new teacher. 

‘Am I hurting myself in the process of grieving? ’ Hazel thought after she had wiped the fresh tears that had fallen down. Father surely thought that she was extremely weak-willed, and Mother didn’t care for the tutors as long as she didn’t fail her tests. Yet, that was when she’d stopped feeling sorry for herself.

 

Several years later, when Hazel had finally had enough of homeschooling, she thought of Celestine leaving. It had given her the confidence to gather all she had to talk about it with Evander. 

 

“The public schools, even private ones, are dangerous. There are bad and villainous students there, and you could get bullied.” Father raised his voice a fraction. “A class can also be disrupted by a single student, and we cannot have your grades dropping.” 

“I’ll do fine in them.”

“You’ll get injured.”

Hazel reasoned with her father. She needed friends, she needed to socialise, she needed preparation for University, and the schools had professional equipment. 

“There are also teachers for a reason,” Hazel concluded, her mind like a whirlwind, her neck burning with embarrassment because she obviously sounded desperate. 

Perhaps it was her desperation that made Father agree. Perhaps he agreed because of  one of her reasons. But Hazel still couldn’t believe what had just happened—even after he had said yes. Her father said yes. The very man who had made it clear that attachment was a weakness, the man who dismissed her tutors—he was going to let her enter a public school.

How the tables have turned. Is this the part where I make friends like the fantasy books I’ve read? 

Hazel couldn’t stop questioning herself as she slept that night—would it be so wrong to picture herself socialising with classmates her age? 

A long, drawn-out week later, her uniform finally arrived. It was time where she could finally test her theory.