Her name is Hazel Cooper. I went to primary school with her and we were in the same class together. She sat on the other end of the room as me but when we had to sit in front of the teacher, we sat together. We got on really well. We both shared an interest in the TV show Thunderbirds and we both enjoyed the same foods and things. We weren't that different from each other when I think about it. But, obviously, there were differences.
I was a kind of sociable boy. I had two best friends who I hung around with and I had two female friends who I spent lunchtimes with too. One of them I had shouting contests with every lunchtime. For no other reason than we could. Hazel, however, kept herself to herself most days. I would see her sitting on a bench near the hall just drawing. She was very good. But on the rare occasion she did fancy company, she would always find me. And I'd always happily try to include her in what I was doing.
Time went on, and eventually, I left the school. But on my last day, I brought in chocolate buttons for everyone as a parting gift. I remember going up to Hazel and her being upset that I was leaving. But we agreed that we'd try and find each other. You know. How kids do. But she accepted her chocolate buttons and we went our separate ways.
For years I thought about Hazel. Because, I suppose, in a weird 6 year old boy way, I really liked Hazel. I suppose I had kiddie feelings for her. And I'd often think about her when I went to the proceeding two primary schools I attended.
Before I go into the next bit, I want to describe Hazel physically.
She was my height or so. She was ginger and she had pretty little freckles all over her face. She was the main reason why I have a thing for gingers now as an adult. She always had her hair in plats and had little red bow ties in them. Kind of common but all the same. Like I say, she was quiet but enjoyed company when she really wanted it. She didn't want it all the time but when she did she enjoyed it.
So that's Hazel. She was wonderful to me and she always will be. But something happened a few years ago that confused me. If you don't believe what I say next then that's your own lookout. But, I promise you, this happened to me.
In 2005, I started secondary school in the town I originally attended school with Hazel. And, on the day I started, I was wondering if I'd meet her again. Just to see, you know? I thought about her on and off since I left that primary school and I just wanted to say hello.
Day one, no joy. Couldn't find her. But I didn't let it deter me. I kept looking. (Not in a stalkerish way, but keeping my eye out so to speak).
Here's how the whole thing was eventually resolved.
On day three, I had a lesson where a young woman ran up to me and smiled. It wasn't Hazel. I was sure of that but she did look familiar. We got chatting and it turned out she was someone in my Year Two class with Hazel and I. We caught up (as much as 11 year olds can) and we got chatting about who else had come up the school with us from that year group.
The young woman rounded off all these different names, all of which I remembered, and some I rounded off too. But then something weird happened.
I mentioned Hazel's name to the young woman and she looked confused.
"Hazel?" She said. I explained a bit more about Miss Cooper and her face still looked as confused. She didn't remember Hazel and had no clue if she'd come to the secondary.
Over the coming months, I asked numerous different people from our year group at that primary school if Hazel had come to the the secondary and all of them said the same thing.
"Who's Hazel?"
It seemed like she'd never existed. I know Hazel kept herself to herself a lot, but you'd remember someone like her. She'd be remembered as the quiet one or something.
Not even my own mum remembered her when I asked last.
Over the years, certain things changed and certain people came and went. One day I tried to find her on Facebook, finding 3 different ones as to who she could be but they were not. Wherever she was, she was lost to me.
Recently, I thought about Hazel once again. I thought about those years at primary school and those funny little times we shared. And I've come to two conclusions about what happened to her.
1. She left the school shortly I did. But her departure had such little effect she was easily forgotten by our peers and faded into obscurity. And that she's somewhere out there living her life.
But the second one, sadly, seems much more likely.
2. I invented the perfect imaginary friend. So perfect, I thought she was actually real. I thought I actually interacted with her and that my other friends did too but instead she was only someone I could see.
I may well have invented the perfect woman at age 4 and lost her at age 6. That's depressing when I say it like that. But that's only a possibility. She could well be real and possibly stumble upon this someday.
If you are Hazel by chance and you find this, I do still think about you, weird as that sounds...
But it's very possible also that she never existed in the first place.
Oh well. It was fun while it lasted I suppose. But isn't it weird how that happens? Maybe someone into psychology could tell me whether I'm clinically insane or just a lonely little boy? As I suppose for the most part I was at the time?
