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Authors note: Hi! I know that I haven't given updates on the story lately, sorry about that, but I do plan on making the chapters longer! Thanks for reading.

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My mother looked down at a 9 year old me with shame while my father was grabbing something from the other room. I was sitting in one of the cheap dining room chairs in our small shed of a house. My mothers eyes filled with tears as I stared up at her with bewilderment. She was so beautiful, with long blonde hair falling to her waist, shimmering golden eyes once full of life now decorated with sadness and pain. I knew we were the Omega household and that the pack was terrible to us because of the pack we immagrated from the Wit Maan Hond pack in South Africa. My father was born there with dark chocolate brown skin that mixed with my mothers pale to make me a caramel colour and my brother a light tan. 

 "Mom why are you and daddy so sad?" 

 "Because we have no more for us anywhere." She choked out, tears now streaming.

 "But what about me and Marky?"

My father broke through the door with a crazed look on his face. My mother stayed still not daring move. 

"Daddy why do you have a knife? I thought you told me that knifes were a no no." I asked curious, innocence in my eyes. Daddy never was a violent person.

 "Because buttercup me and mommy are going to go to a better place." His voice filled with mixed emotion.

 "Can me and Marky come?" I want to go to a better place, Marcus always told me that he would take me to the prettiest garden and we would play for hours. Maybe thats the place they were going.

 "Not yet buttercup, one day though." 

 My mother piped in "Now baby what your about to see is not going to be pretty but it needs to happen. You are the reason we need to leave, we are leaving and never coming back. You have brought this on us, we can't handle a Lycan like you. We never loved you only Marcus was able to do that." She forced out each word causing pain in her eyes, face contorting into a grimace.

 They don't love me? tears formed in my eyes threatening to fall, sobs erupting from my chest as my father handed a butcher knife to my mother a permanent scowl on his face as he raised the knife to his neck.

 "No mommy, daddy don't leave me!" My frail voice screached at them. I started standing up to stop the knifes but my father shoved me back down to my seat roughly.

 "Goodbye..." They both said in unison as the knifes streaked across there necks letting all of their blood spill from their necks.  

 My mother and father fell to the ground with a thump blood flooding around them filling the living room. I slowly crouched to the floor to my mothers face as she layed flat on the ground, hands intertwind with my fathers.

 "Mommy..." A sob cut between my words, tears spilling from my eyes. "Daddy..." They didn't love me, they hated me so much that they left me and my brother to live alone in this shipwreck of a pack filled with rape, drugs, and violence.  I did this to them. I made them hate being here. My hand reached out to close my mothers eyes when a growl  filled the room. I snapped my head to the front door to see my 11 year old brother Marcus.

 "What have you done?" He snapped, throwing his fist to my ribs.

*                                  *                                 *                                   *                                   *                                 *

I woke up in cold sweat eyes snapping up to the hulking figure at the foot of my queen bed. My stomache lurched forward, as I doubled over in my bed the hushed voice of Lewis spoke to me. 

 "Shhh, its okay. Calm, your safe here."

 He wrapped his burly arms around me while relaxing into my bed. We sat like that without a word until dawn approached my window. Sleep never came as I replayed the dream. The memory. The fact that I brought pain to peoples lives. I have been able to keep that out of thought for so long, I wish it never came back. I wouldn't cry though, I never cry. Not since that day, I swore to myself that I wouldn't be that weak. Yeah sure being constantly abused would make me physically weak but not mentally. I was the strongest there, able to shut out emotions that would just hurt me. Stupid emotions, all they did was bring me pain. 

 "You talk in your sleep..." Lewis huskly announced arms still craddling me.

He knew.

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