Prologue - Rebel

prologue - rebel

. . .

I sit on the edge of the bed, the small light in the corner flickering to life as I stare into the window of darkness before me. It feels like deja vu. Every single time, the memories still creep in to raise havoc on my mental state. I shouldn't even be concerned. How can I still feel love for someone so strongly when they hated my very existence?

They were horrible human beings to me for most of my life; treating me like Cinderella around all of their other children from different mistresses and fuck boys. Leaving me alone on my birthdays.

My fifteenth birthday seemed like kismet almost. My parents meeting their untimely death at the same time I would have been blowing out the candles on my birthday cake, had anyone cared to actually celebrate with me. I'd been an empty shell of myself by then. The start of my invalidity became clear as I finally hit my teenage years.

I still remember the night as clearly as I would've the day it happened.

The doorbell rings, and I stand hastily from my slumped position on the couch. Who could be at the front door? I open it, smiling, only to be hit by the dour and solemn faces of two armed officers. One officer sports salt and peppered hair and an old school dad beard, while the other officer is a younger version of his counterpart. "Miss Davis?"

"Yes, that's me." I say quietly, uncertainty tinged with fear speckled in my tone.

"Is there anyone else home with you tonight?" No, I shake my head, not able to bring the words to my lips. "Can we come in?"

I've always been taught of stranger danger, but these were police officers. They were there for the people, right? I don't know any better. I dip my head in a nod and back away from the front door, allowing them entry. They're followed in by a lady in plain clothes. She smiles, but it doesn't reach her eyes, which immediately tells me something isn't right, but I shove the thought away.

The redolence of beta tinges my nose as they walk past me towards the living area. The fact that they aren't alphas gives me a sort of comfort. The one's I've known in my short lifetime have been overbearing assholes, so the fact that they aren't has my shoulders dipping a little farther in relief.

They're like me. Normal.

Maybe they're here to ask about my parents. It wouldn't be the first time officers have shown up at the house. Normally, it's because of something my stupid siblings had done. They'd arrive to reprimand my parents, who would simply look at them and laugh. "Oh, I'm sure he was just having a little fun", or they'd give a "she won't do it again, promise" that never held true.

If I had been the one doing any of that, I would've been grounded for a week, but that's how the cookie crumbled in this house of lies. It's taken eons to finally see the truth. My grandmother told me once before she passed that she believed my parents hated me because I was pure and decent. I didn't stoop to the lows that my malevolent family did.

I follow them numbly as they walk into the living room, ha, more like a mausoleum in this place, and take a seat on the too uncomfortable sofa that sits in the corner, barely ever used.

"So, what's going on?" I ask, finally finding my voice after a few minutes. The officers look at each other with telling looks; the who-wants-to-give-this-teenager-the-bad-news looks. I've never experienced this before, but I watch enough crime shows to guess what is about to happen.

The lady in the regular clothes sighs, and then begins to speak. "This is officer Sandy and officer Jacobs." She lifts a delicate finger to the men beside her. "My name is Madeline, but you can call me Maddie. We're here because there's been an accident. Your parent's car wrapped around a tree tonight. I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this… but they passed on impact."

My first thought was to wonder if they were, yet again, driving drunk. It wouldn't be the first time, only this time, it seemed to be the last if what they were saying was true. A few seconds pass by me.

I wait for the tears to come. For me to slide from the couch and slip onto the floor in a ball of sorrow, but nothing comes. My eyes are drier than the Sahara desert. Somehow, I knew this day would come, so it's as if I have been expecting it. Their brows furrowed as if they were also waiting for me to expose some type of emotion. What kid doesn't cry when they find out their parents just died in a car accident?

Me, apparently.

I hadn't even known they were going out tonight. I'd only found out when I'd gone in search of food in this desolate, silent mansion. The light in the study where my father took most of his business calls was on, sitting on the corner of his desk like always, painting shadows on the walls around it.

I remember going in to snoop. Finding the information about the event on a post it note under his keyboard as if he'd been hiding it. The name of the event hadn't sounded familiar, and I remember wondering if it was one of those alpha/omega events they attended on the regular. Some sort of sex thing. To be honest, I think that's how they found their mistresses and fuck boys.

"Miss?" The endearment brings me back to the foreground as I realize Officer… Sandy is trying to capture my attention. "Is there anyone we can call for you?" A dour look crosses his face, and my heart feels like it cramps a little. I know the look all too well… the look of unhappiness or concern.

"My best friend's mom, Shirley?" I say hopefully. Shirley has been like a mom to me since I befriended her daughter in second grade. As a parent and beta, I think she knew how I was treated by my omega mother. She seemed to take me under her wing. She liked to include me in family events like cookouts, barbecues, and the occasional camping trip. It's sad to say, but I preferred her company to that of my own family. Shirley is more family than my parents will ever be. Well, would have ever been. I tip my head back on the couch and count the flecks of dust on the way too expensive light above me. Still, the tears refuse to show themselves. My mother may have birthed me, but a mother, she would sadly never be.

Maddie sighs, a sound I'm all too familiar with, a pang of disappointment I hear often. "No, hun. We'll need the name of a family member."

"My aunt, I guess. She may still be awake," I say quietly, finding the clock on the wall.

The officer nods his head. "Okay," looking at his other cohorts, he lets them know, "I'm going to go make some calls." I know what ‘calls' mean. I have a feeling my aunt will say no. She doesn't have kids and much prefers it that way. My grandmother had been so upset with her for the decision, but I always thought it was a good idea to know what you wanted. I've lived through it; the knowledge that no one wants you. That you should've ended up in a biohazard can somewhere instead of being born. I know what that feels like, and it's abhorrent.

I think about my half siblings; certain that my parents' friends will step up for them. They're the golden children. The ones who shit gold, act like assholes, and still get praised for it. It's a sickening behavior but all too common in this high level of snobbery we pretend to thrive in.

A glum look painted Officer Sandy's face as he walked back into the room. "Let me guess, she doesn't want me?" He shook his head sadly. "It's okay." I reassure him. "I figured as much." His eyes widen at my confession, but in a split second they're back to normal. I'm sure she is probably thinking about all the heirlooms she can get her grimy little hands on that my parents were holding onto.

"You said your friend's mom is Shirley?" He asks.

"Yes, Shirley Stevens," I say before rattling off her phone number.

I feel numb.

It's three a.m. by the time Shirley gets to the house. She sweeps me up into her arms and hugs me like I may perish before her very eyes. It's then that the sobbing comes freely. I bawl in her arms, but not for the reason everyone thinks. It's been so long since I've had the warmth of a hug, the love of a parent that it hits me right in the gut.