The Left-handed Jock

II.

I opened my eyes staring at the familiar grey ceiling that I have been looking at all my life, I hate this color but I have no right to complain, I stare around the tiny storage room that become all mine after the last omega died, cringing as my eyes land on the peeled wallpaper that was hiding the numerous holes on the crusted wall

All my belongings packed in several boxes and placed all around my bed, I sighed and rolled over to glance at the digital clock that was placed on the cracked nightstand, the bright red number read 6:35 a.m, I should be sleeping an half an hour more if it wasn't for those bunch of lazy asses I call pack, I groaned as I lazily dragged my legs toward the bathroom, removing my baggy pyjama that reveiled my scrawny figure,

but suddenly a boost of energy passed through my veins as I remembered that I'll meet my mate at school today, yes I always meet him but this day is different,

I'm on cloud nine and nothing can ruin my happiness, even the cold shower that's waiting for me or the hundreds wolves waiting for breakfast can made me forget our moment, our fist moment, I squealed like a little girl my hands muffling my excitement as I made my way to the shower, and for the first time I tried to make myself look good,

A faded pink towel hugging my waist after finishing my shower, bathing myself with every product I found in the bathroom, I looked up and stared at the mirror, why he can't love me? I'm not a breathtaking guy but I can't say that I'm ugly, I don't have cute and beautiful features that everyone love, my looks is average, beyond average, curly black hair, pale skin and brown eyes, shaking my head to get ride of the depressing thoughts I need to find a solution, maybe he doesn't like my hair, I grabbed the brush styling my hair trying hard to unroll my wild curls but in vain, or maybe he doesn't like my choice of clothes, I run to one of the boxes and pull on a pair of black jeans with a yellow shirt that I saved just for grand events, staring at my reflexion, I look dandy.

My eyes snapped to the door as it thrown open and the beta of the pack marched in, my heart starts  beating violently in my chest with fear as I glanced at the clock, 7:30 a.m, I'm dead.

"I'm s-so.." before I can say any apologies he slaps my cheek so hard that my head whips so fast to the side, I can feel the warm liquid pouring down from my nose, sobs escaped my lips as drops of my blood landed on my shirt

"Out! No breakfast for you!" tears blinded me as I run as fast as my chopsticks of legs can go, sprinting down the stairs recieving growls and snarls from the hungry angry wolves who are waiting for an eighteen years omega to feed them

fuck you!

I wanted to scream it loud for those abusers to hear but my mind was occupied with something else

my shirt!

there's blood on my shirt!

blindly running throught the woods, birds chipping happily welcoming the rising sun, little animals hiding behind bushes as they heard my heavy steps, sweat and tears mingled on my face, breath ragged and harsh, limbs treathinig to collapse as I stopped before the school, ceaseless buzzing of the students reached my ears as they arrived throught the gates, friends greeting eachother, cars and vans parked and stream of seniors merged tall and proud,

my nose destingued his smell despite the many saffocating perfums floating in the air, my eyes desperately searching the crowd for my mate wanting to see him to lighten my day, but I was greeted with the state of him hands under the skirt of one of the cheerleaders squeezing her ass cheeks while his tounge shoved down her throat, my legs gave up and I crumbled to the ground, my vision swimming as droplets of sweat covered my body, I leaned against a tree after vomiting the contents of my empty stomach,

Too much for impressing your mate with a blood stained shirt that smells like rotten potatoes,

I carried my legs heading toward the toilets after the students made their way to classes,

Looking at the mirror the first thing I noticed was the big bruise that covered half of my face then the stains of blood and vomit on my shirt, my hands tremble and my eyes water as I reach my hand toward my cheek, my breath hitched as I heard the click of the door,

Hopelessness

That's how I feel when the door pushed open and my mate marched in, I'm not going to make it out alive judging by the gang following him inside, his eyes landed on my hand that's covering my cheek, and as I tried blinking back the tears a sob escaped my busted lips,

"Get out!" The scream was loud and full of rage and it sounded like it was from an angry alpha, I tripped over my legs as I tried to make my way out of the toilet without touching my bullies but the sound of the door closing and the snickers of the his friends reached my ears and hesitantly I looked up to find just the two of us inside the locked room.

-XOXO