"Omega's are supposed to stay quiet. Omega's are supposed to obey. Omega's are supposed to do EVERYTHING I fucking say!" Alpha Morrison said in anger as he spat at me. I lived each day in fear for my life. Wondering what I did wrong to deserve such...
I had been beaten all day, spat on, and kicked; my hair had been pulled, and I had lost count of how many times they had pushed me to the floor. I should be used to it by now, right? I mean, this is my life every day. I've been treated like this since I could remember, and it's as if they get a thrill seeing me getting beaten. It's a show to their amusement.
Someone thought it would be funny to dump their hot coffee on me as I walked by with a tray of food back to the kitchen as I continued to clear the table, and another threw their leftover hash brown in my face because they said their coffee wasn't strong enough, and the hash brown tasted old. "Just keep walking, Livs. Just keep walking." I say under my breath. It was the only thing I could do because if I so even tried to retaliate or defend myself, I knew I was going to lose.
Once done, I was ready to dash out and continue my subsequent work, cleaning the pack's hospital. Well, it was more like a clinic because it was just a tiny cottage.
But just as I was running through the corridor, I felt a yank on my hair, making me fall back. My body ached as I fell to the ground, and I could feel the sting on my scalp as alpha Noah dragged me by my hair toward the kitchen.
Someone had just spilled a gallon of milk on the floor. The floor I had just cleaned not even five minutes ago. I needed to stay quiet. If I made even the slightest sound, I knew what was coming.