Page 12 of Conflicting Lyrics
For the most part, I feel next to nothing, but any time I see my parents' faces or listen to the sound of their voices, I want to scream, to cry, to hurt them.
I’ve never been a violent person, even with everything they’ve put me through, but now?
I wished they would die. Because then I’d be free.
The light turns off, blanketing the room in darkness before the door clicks shut and the locks snap in place.
Silent tears spill down my cheeks as I close my eyes, praying I won’t wake up. It would be better that way.
Instead, I’m cursed with nightmares of her. The reason I call them nightmares is because they are a reminder of everything I’ve lost. My biggest mistake was not just saying yes, taking her hand, and letting her take me away from the true nightmare that plagued my life.
I’m haunted by her smile, her laugh, and the same vanilla cupcake scent that always seemed to comfort me.
I want to stay there with her. To lie to myself and pretend that my reality was the dream, and that they are real.
But life doesn’t work like that—especially not for me.
This unbearable ache in my abdomen pulls me from my sleep. Groaning, I wrap my hand around myself and roll onto my stomach.
My heart pounds in my chest as my body shakes, sweating like I’ve been standing under the hot sun for hours.
What is going on? Am I having some sort of bad reaction to the medication? Did I eat something that doesn't agree with me?
As I try to take a deep, calming breath, praying that it helps, I’m overwhelmed with the strong scent of lemon meringue pie.
Pressing my face into the pillow, I whimper as my body shudders, only to pop up into a seated position when I feel the gush of something wet between my thighs.
Ignoring the wave of nausea, I pull back the blankets to see what’s going on.
Did I piss myself? Or maybe started my period?
I turned eighteen the day I was released from their fucked up facility that they have in the back of the church. That meant that any day after, my designation would present itself.
Female Betas often found out when they got their first period. And while female Alphas got periods too, the way they knew their designation was by the way their bodies changed.
Same goes with Omegas.
For Betas, it was easy, simple. A little blood, some cramping, but nothing too serious.
Only, right now, the pain isn’t a little bit of cramping. It feels like someone is stabbing me in the gut with a blade over and over again. It’s a pain I’ve never felt in my life.
And the wetness between my legs isn’t me peeing myself, and it isn’t blood.
No, it’s something much worse.
“No,” I whimper, my breathing picking up, heart racing so fast I think I might pass out. With a shaky hand, I run my fingers through the mess and sob.
Slick. The white, almost clear substance was slick.
My parents made it their mission for me to know nothing about how Alpha and Omegas worked, saying it wasn’t any of my business because I was going to be a Beta.
Of course, Ally thought that was absurd and would often fill me in on the things she knew.
Like her mother’s story about when she presented as an Omega. It’s something her mother told Ally to prepare her in case that day ever came for her. She didn’t want her daughter to freak out or worry that something was horribly wrong. Because in her house, it wasn’t. To most of the world, it wasn’t.
But in this house, it was as close to a death sentence as I’d get.
Ally’s mother’s story sounds a hell of a lot like what I’m feeling right now.
