My Second Side (Omegaverse)/ Reader X Keith

A Sh*ty Night and a Worce Morning

Um...hi, I am emediently just now giving you guys a TRIGER WARNING of parental abuse, be be careful reading. Please don't give me any hate on this. And I'm sorry it took so long To update this. The next episode will be much better I promise.

He just threw me into the living room and I ended up hitting a few empty bourbon bottles. 

"Where have you been?!" My dad yells the smell of bourbon on his breath. 

"A few of my friends and I went out to an arcade today, and we worked on a school project last night." I says slowly backing away from my dad.

"Your in heat!" My dad yells throwing the bottle that was in his hands to the ground. I few pieces of the glass hit my hand, but I couldn't do anything. 

"I-I know, I'm sorry." 

"That doesn't cut it, get up!" My dad yells annoyed. 

I stood up slowly, and just continued to flinch with every move he makes. My dad leans down and picks up another bottle. "Clean up this mess, and take those out of your hand idiot." My dad says falling into his recliner and clicking on the TV way to loud. 

I picked up the unbroken bottles and threw them in the trash, before I started to pick up the glass shards. A few more of the shards got stuck in my hand, but I get most of them in the trash. I go over to the trash again, and slowly pick the glass shards out of my right hand. When I finally get them all out, I wrap a bloody cloth, form last time, around my hand and tied it off. 

My dad looked over at me angry, and I stayed looking at the ground. "Take this and get me a new one." My dad says throwing his, now empty, bottle.

I caught it just barely, and hold it close to my chest. I carefully put it in the trash and go into the mess of a kitchen to get another bottle. It wasn't full, and my dad was pretty drunk so I mixed in some chamomile tea, and a crushed up sleeping pill, before shaking it up, and walking back into the living room. I put the bottle down next to him, and pick up some of the trash and rappers around it. 

My dad angrily grabbed the bottle and took a few sips of it, but he didn't notice the change in taste.  I spent the whole time slowly moving my stuff up stairs to my room, and cleaning up the house. When my dad finally passed out, I was as quiet as possible, and walked up stairs to my room. I looked around at my small, surprising, neat room. My (F/C) sheets were tucked neatly around my bed, and my wife night stand was clean except for a glass of water. My desk was on the other side of the room, witch was covered in papers, but they weren't scattered everywhere. I walked over to my night stand and pulled out a bottle of painkillers. I don't mean some Advil it was a bottle of heat pain killers. I took two of them with the water, and then another suppressant. The pills hit my empty stomach like a frat train and I fell onto my bed in pain. I sat like that for a few minutes before I heard my father down stairs. 

"Fucking worthless Omega!" My dad screamed in pain. 

I just ignored my pain and ran down stairs to see my dad in his chair looking at his foot.  'I missed a price if glass. No,no,no." I think running over to see the small blood stains and a tiny piece of glass. 

As if by magic my dad's pain vanished, and he stood slapping me across the face. "I told you to pick up the fucking glass, but you couldn't even to that!" My dad grabbed the collar of my shirt and lifts me up. "You fucked up and now I'm injured, is that what you want!?" 

"N-No, I-I'm sorry, I will do better." I stuttered out, scared of what he will do.

My dad puts his closed fist over my stomach, gently, before he pulls it back, and punches my in my already painted chest. My dad dropped me, and I just curled up in pain, tears streaming down my face. "Pick up the glass, that you missed." My dad says taking another sip of his bourbon, and sleeping pills. I slowly reach out and grab the glass shards, feeling the ground for anymore. I didn't find anymore, so I slowly stood up throwing away the small price of glass. I then walked into the kitchen pulled a bottle of bleach out from under the sink. I slowly took the bloody cloth off of my hand and pour the bleach onto it. I walk back into the living room scrubbing the small blood stain off of the carpet.