Hads was a nickname I loved. Back when everything was still normal. I lived in the same house, my parents were still together and everything seemed normal. During this year I rarely ever heard my real name. It was like he had gotten everyone to know me as Hads.

 “Hadley.” I heard my mom say my name and the tone was different, the feeling was different, the way she said it was filled with sorrow and regret, “Hadley it's not your fault.”, “Hadley I am so sorry.”,  “Hadley you didnt deserve that.”

 The nickname was gone. No one called me Hads or any sort of nickname for over a year. Everyone was serious around me and I had missed the nickname. I started to resent my own name, it was only filled with pity that I didn’t need nor want.

 Only this past year, was when I heard the nickname Hads again, my new friends started calling me Hads and Jack started calling me Hads. I felt a sense of myself coming back and then the sense of my mom coming back to me, she would call me Hads almost as if she had forgotten she had ever stopped. I don't think anyone realized the way I held on to that nickname or the way I noticed that I had gone from always being called a nickname to never. I noticed it though. 

When people call me Hads I am brought back to before everything happened, the light heartedness that surrounded me. I don't resent my full name anymore and I know that people aren't trying to make me feel a different way by calling my Hads or Hadley and my name doesn't reflect my story.