AN: Hello readers this is my first HiC story and my first horror story much less so go easy on me please. And please only constructive criticism no flaming. Oh it's also my first story from third person point of view so if I use he she him her too much I will get better at it. So onto the story…..

Chapter 1 into the bowl


"Your name is Hazel Dove?"

"No my name is the creepy old hag who lives down the rode from the freshly burnt down house you're trying to get a story on." sarcasm dripped of every word Hazel said "and my surname is pronounced dove like diving but different " the eighty-six year old said almost bored looking out the door way past the reporter. The burnt down house still smoldered which was odd considering it was noon and the fire started about two this morning. The reporter recoiled a little at her words but being the professional workaholic female reporter she was the microphone held its place by Hazel's mouth wanting to get the story.

"Did you see the house burn down?" the reporter asked as if it was the biggest question in the world that would solve hunger, drought, and maybe even world peace. Hazel just stared out the window at the used to be house, but the reporter was persistent in her work and moved the microphone closer. Hazel leaned against the door frame as her legs felt a little weak. Her gray hair was half pulled back in a ponytail as the back half fell straight down just past her shoulder blades. She looked like a witch. Her scratchy old voice didn't help in the matter. The children on the street even avoided her house because she almost never came out of it, and she looked scary to them. They always thought she was in there cooking the children that came close enough for her to grab.

"I saw the smoke, but I didn't feel like joining the rest of the street in watching a fire." Hazel sighed not wanting to deal with the reporter "Please leave me alone and get your story from someone else" Hazel slammed the door in her face and locked it in hopes they would leave her and her solitude alone. Hazel sighed and turned not wanting to look at the smoke or reporters from random news stations. Everything was in place and things needed to be done quickly. She went into the heart of her little home and grabbed a plastic bag from the linen closet. In the bag was another bag. Hazel opened it with slightly shaky hands. Out came an old thin black and red checkered blanket and a silver pocket watch. Hazel took them both.

Hazel walked to her back door and out into her back lawn. The grass was over grown since she almost never went out in the woods that lay directly behind the house. The last time Hazel Dove had set foot in the backyard was when she was sixteen, but that was a long time ago. A time when things were bleak although there was always hope, but that hoped died with the boy who had the sky in his eyes. Hazels hope was no more and all she wanted was for god to take her.

Hazel started into the woods on a mission that could not be failed. After walking for a while she came up to the bleeding heart bush that marked the start of the bowl, and picked a strand of the flowers in bloom. She walked up to the steep slope. Hazel sat and slid down knowing if s tried to slide down on her feet she would fall and break a hip. She stood as she reached the bottom. The large pond sat in the middle of the bowl it was deep and the water was clear and clean.

Hazel put the blanket down right next to the water. The woods were silent like there was a storm about to come. Even the trees didn't make a sound as the wind moved the leafs on the branches. Hazel sat on the old thin blanket and pulled out the silver pocket watch with a dead tree embedded on its cover. She opened it gently. The watch still worked Hazel made sure it worked. She would often take it in to get it repaired or cleaned. The watch was now set on the left side of the blanket, And the string of bleeding hearts were on the right side. Hazel leaned over to look in the pond. Her reflection stared back at her old and frail. Weak fingers came up to poke the surface of the clear water. The ripples distorted her image and spread out over the pond making the old woman feel dread.


A younger much prettier Hazel Dove walked down the plain white school hallway fallowing a young woman around the age of twenty-five. Miss. Anderson was a new teacher and Hazel a new student. So the teacher took pity on the girl who came to a new school in the middle of a school year much less in the middle of a school day. She felt bad that the girl seemed timid and shy and walked around the school half of the class day because she was too scared to ask a teacher where her class was.

They stopped in front of classroom 123. Hazel just stood there quietly in her white dress every once in a while she would fidget with the white bow tying her light brown shoulder length hair in a ponytail. Mrs. Anderson opened the door for the young girl and almost jumped as she saw a young boy about the age of fourteen getting hit in the back with a cane. The boy got sent back to his seat by the ever so strict Mrs. White.

"Mr. Johnson have your homework done for tomorrow or it will be fifty hits instead of twenty." Mrs. White said firmly. The class had kids ranging from fourteen to eighteen.

"Mrs. White this it Hazel Dove. She is new to the school and town." Miss. Anderson said and smiled sweetly. Mrs. White was anything but sweet. She was a fifty year old with short white curly hair and a slightly cubby build. She eyed hazel up and down as Miss. Anderson left.

"Go sit by Jonah over there" Mrs. White pointed to the boy in the middle of the classroom with black hair "and don't you dare say you don't want to sit next to the crazy kid who talks to dead people" she said firmly. Hazel just realized that there was a ring of empty desks around him. She sat in the one to his right. Hazel looked at the boy named Jonah. He was now a light shade of pink from being embarrassed at the teachers last comment.

Hazel spent the rest of the class period listening to the teachers lecture and fiddling with her pencil. After class she walked home hoping to explore around the house a bit. Her parents were born rich but liked to work and be slightly cheep. So they only had a small one level white house to live in. It was a bit too cramped for Hazel but she never complained. Her parents were always busy at work and rarely came home sometimes they would even sleep at the candy shop they owned in the spare room waiting for candy to get done cooking.

Hazel walked around the house to get to the woods behind her new house. She walked into them for a while. Some of the trees already were turning orange and red. A small bush marked the start of a steep slope. Hazel crouched by the edge of the slope and slid down on her feet. She walked around the large pond at the bottom of the slope looking into the water. She could see pan fish swimming around in the clear water. Hazel turned on her feet. She screamed and recoiled as the other person jumped back startled and fell into the water.