I Broke into the Alpha's House ✔

Chapter 1 - Edited Once

If you don't see in-text comments, that's probably because I am editing the book, and the lines shift. So, the comments end up at the bottom, in the general comments section.

Stella

(Edited once)

I woke up to my brother's annoying, yelling voice, as per usual. Sadly and conveniently, I got accustomed to his screams. However, I would never ever get used to the abuse.

It physically and mentally hurt just thinking about his punches to my back last night. At one point during his rampage, he got tired from using his fists and decided to switch to the whip. I just bit my lip until he was done. 

I did not do anything to upset him yesterday. 

I rubbed my eyes and stretched my aching and bruised body. I was too exhausted since I did not get enough sleep last night. I never do. 

I got out of my small bed, which was basically an old dirty mattress, and walked to the cramped bathroom at the end of the hall. When I finished my very quick shower, I wore a casual black shirt that matched my hair, my old blue jeans, and my worn-out boots. 

I took a deep breath after returning to my room and was ready for the last day of high school. I was mentally unprepared to end this stage of my life mainly because school was a shelter from Raymond.

I got out of my room, and I walked towards the stairs as quietly as possible. I did not want to see Raymond first thing in the morning, yet I knew it was useless to try and do so. It was an inevitable thing. 

I was eighteen, and by law, I could leave the house. The only obstacle was Raymond. His grip on me was too tight to free myself from it. The same grip that almost choked me to death multiple times, and I was terrified. 

I did try to run away on my eighteenth birthday, but Raymond predicted my escape plan and locked me in the attic for a week without water or food. I did not know how I survived for that long, yet I remember praying to die. I wanted to meet my parents again and be at ease, living a tranquil life. 

On multiple occasions, I wanted to die and never see my abuser ever again, though I never thought of committing suicide. I would not end my life with my own hands. I would rather be killed or die naturally than disappoint my parents. I was holding on, but I did not know for how long.

Life isn't fair sometimes.

I looked at the bottom of the stairs and saw Raymond waiting for me with a frown on his always constipated face. I hated him. I hoped for the minimum punishment today, or at least this morning, because I wanted to attend my last day of school with a decent appearance.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked coldly, which made me wonder if he knew how to smile. I did not remember the last time I saw his happy face. His fierce green eyes were filled with hostility toward me, and my gray ones were filled with fear and dread.

"School," I replied in a muffled tone while maintaining eye contact. He hated it when I averted my gaze from his, and I learned that the very hard way. I earned another scar on my back from that day.

He scoffed. "You will come home as fast as you can when school is over. I will have guests in the evening, so I want you to make a good dinner, understand?" he demanded, and I paled. Guests...

"Yes, brother," I answered instantly, and he returned to his room. It could have been worse, he did not lay a hand on me, and I did not want to jinx my luck. I ran from the house like my feet were on fire in case he decided to change his mind.