Story cover for The Alpha saved me by Bigbadsnowflake
The Alpha saved me
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  • WpView
    Reads 9,724
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  • WpPart
    Parts 18
  • WpHistory
    Time 1h 1m
Ongoing, First published May 30, 2014
Mature
It was in the late November that my mother left me. 
By Christmas Day my father had already bought all the alcoholic beverages in every store, blindingly ruining our little family tradition of staying sober and enjoy the jolly day. Drowning away his sorrows was the only way he expressed his hurt, that and the fact he lashes out on me. My mum was the one who originally had the idea of not drinking, I never knew why really.
He uses me as a punching bag, not that I care of course, since I am supposedly the one that caused my mothers unexpected death. At first it started with a mere pinch and shove, but as the pain took over him and progressed so did the threats and beatings.
Socialising was one of my weaker skills after being constantly battered and let down by my fathers promises, now it seems that my mind can't help but transform people's kind and gentle features into my fathers cold and menacing glare. 
And of course being selected for a debate club was absolutely pointless. The chairman always boasting about a child has a right to an opinion, however with that right there comes a responsibility which is of course respecting and listening to people's thoughts and of course I believe their opinions are irrelevant to the topic. That and the fact I never listened to the topic we was discussing, never put my opinion out, never spoke, in fact I sat in the corner and listened to music praying for my life to improve.
There's also the thought of society encouraging young child to grow up, starve themselves, smoke or experiment with their bodies, just to clarify that means sex. 
 
These weren't the only miserable factors that consisted my life, I was a werewolf. Cursed since the day I was born. Obviously God decided I would pick up my mothers genes and turn into an animal.
I was yet to find my mate.
I was yet to face rejection. 
Kill me now.
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My life has always been terrible. I was always bullied at school. I don't know why, it just seemed that people didn't like my presence. The guys would beat me up and I'd get in trouble when I defended myself, for the teachers never saw what they did. The girls would trick me, making me think they liked me and laughing at me because of it. I was always in the principle's office for one reason or another, but I wasn't a bad student. I actually got really good grades. To make matters worse, my mother wanted nothing to do with me. She'd lock me in the basement, sometimes for days, with no food or warmth. My father would then sneak down and beat me before raping me. So, naturally, I wanted to die. But, for some reason, I can't die. No matter what I do, I can't stay dead. The thing I want more than anything is far out of my reach. Why can't I just die? Warning: mention of rape, suicide, and abuse. Also, this is a boy's love story.