The struggle

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          After a few minutes, I hear the kitchen door opening, and the scent of James the assistant cook invades my nostrils. From what I have noticed I have a very strong sense of smell, hearing, and sight but sometimes it is more of a torture than a gift since it means I smell a lot of food that I can't have and all the unnecessary pungent smells that come sliding into my nose are really irritating.

         My good hearing allows me to catch up on the gossips that nobody tells me directly, but it also means that I have to listen to every bad thing they say about me, my dad, and even my mom whom they used to respect. My eyesight makes me feel like a freak since whenever I am having a "moment" which is what I decided to call it and I look at a person carefully I feel like am looking at their soul.

         He comes into the dish room and stands at the doorway which is when I turn around and bow my head down a bit to show my respect.

         " Today we will have more people to serve since the Alpha and Luna have decided to eat in the common kitchen. So make sure to wash the dishes fast." He instructs while walking out of the dish room.

          The Alpha and Luna, Beta, third in command, or any of the other high ranking werewolves come and eat at the cafeteria rather than the main dining hall whenever there is something they want to announce or if they want to encourage or if it is one of those days they just want to mingle with pack members. It makes all the werewolves happy and gives them more courage and makes them feel closer to their leaders. It is a good and effective practice.

          " I wonder why they are eating here today? " I mumbled before starting the dishwashing machine. " Will it kill Chef to send somebody to help me on days like this?" I shake my head already fade up with the idea of washing the dishes. 

          I started hearing more steps walking toward the common kitchen and the omegas sleep-filled voices as they talked on their way. I really should make and take my medicine before the noises become unbearable. The strong and defining sound that is coming from the washing machine just making my head hurt more.

          I took out the cutting board, pots and pans, knives, and other things they would need that were kept in the dishwashing room.

          "Can you move out of the way?" Said chad who was one of the omegas working in the kitchen pushing me away.

          "I am sorry!" I said fast not wanting to get on his bad side. I didn't apologize when he pushed me out of the way a year ago when I started working in the kitchen because it caused the stacks of plates that I had in my hands to crumble down which made me mad. That was a bad decision. I knew that I should never act up or in this case not do what I felt like doing just because of my emotions.

          I was reminded of the lesson that I should never have forgotten even for a split second when he and his friends waited for me outside when I left work. They surrounded me and beat me up until they were satisfied. Spitting on me on their way back to the pack-house.

I was covered with bruises for three days which for a human would have caused serious damages or even death and would have caused them to be punished by the pack law if they considered me one of them, but nobody even asked me what happened as if they knew what happened and they supported it.

          "Coward!" I made sure to shout in my head. So I can relive some of the steam that was bubbling inside me. Well, it is an undeniable truth that those who thrive on torturing the weak just so they can feel better about themselves are in fact the definitions of cowardice.

          Having to face a struggle in life is unavoidable. It just comes in different types, forms, and durations for everyone. This is also one of the struggles that I have to face and stand victoriously at the end. I am sure people who look like they have everything are also struggling with something.

          I made sure to stay out of everyone's way when I made my way back to the dish room. Why do some people act like it will cost them their life if they are nice and courteous? It doesn't require much to be nice to people and if they believe it requires energy or it costs them to be nice then at least leave the people who clearly don't want to be bothered alone. It is a simple fact that is understandable unless you have a rock for a brain. Well, I have already convinced myself that is the case for some people here.

          I was not weak when I was younger. I remember my mom softly laughing when I told her how I stood up for myself when a group of "friends" were trying to bully me when I was in elementary school. After we were done with our laughter she asked what I did and I told her I made sure to fight and I won against five of them. I was six then and the bullies were older than me by two and three years. She looked panicked after I told her that.

           The next day when she came back from visiting my school, she knelt in front of me and said " Diana, I went to see your friends in the hospital today." I didn't have anything to say so I just looked at her waiting for her to finish what she has to say.

           " They will have to stay in the hospital for a while since they are not doing well." She finished now expecting me to give her an answer.

           "But mommy I didn't even hit them hard." I pleaded my case. "They said mean things to me and I didn't like it, then one of the boys hit me so I hit him back and they all tried to hit me so I hit them too, "I said now avoiding her eyes. Tears slowly filling my eyes.

            I was old enough to know when my mom used my name and not pumpkin that I was in big trouble because it doesn't happen a lot and when it does my mom was always angry. I couldn't tell my mom that I hit them not because they insulted me but because they insulted her saying she is a rouge that was able to join the pack because of my dad.

            "Diana no matter what the reason is I don't want you to do anything just because your angry." She said looking angrier.

            "Okay, mommy," I said after tears started to escape my eyes. I slowly got closer to her and hugged her. A skill I found to be effective whenever mom and dad are mad.

            She gently hugged me back and started to soothe the ache I felt for being scolded.

             "Pumpkin, I have a medicine that will help." She said now looking at me. "You will take it obediently, right?" She asked. I was not too open to the idea of taking medicine but I still silently nodded my head sobs still stuck in my throat.

            She gently wiped my tears away and helped me get my long black hair away from my face. "That's my good girl." Mom said smiling. 

           Since that day I have been taking the medicine once a week. If I don't take it my heightened senses give me migraines and make me feel like am about to lose control.

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