Getting very little sleep is something I got used to when I was a kid. My father, a proud dominant alpha who was only concerned with traits, walked out on my mother when I was just two years old. She never talked about the man, and I have no idea who is. To be honest, no good will come from knowing. One thing I do know is that my existence made my mother's life a living hell.
Once most kids turn two, they can be taken in for trait testing. While most of the time it is impossible to tell if they will be an alpha, beta, or omega, certain characteristics should present in those with dominant traits by that age. My trait obsessed father had sweet talked my dominant omega mother with lies of grandeur and a happy life, but when my test results showed I had no dominant tendencies he took off without a trace.
I was never physically abused as a kid. I think my mother had hopes that one day my father would come crawling back, and she didn't want to do anything that would make her or I undesirable. At the same time, however, I apparently was the spitting image of my father, and she could not stand to see me. She would give me the bare minimum in meals until I was deemed old enough to cook for myself, and by the time I was old enough to get a job at fifteen she refused to buy my share of groceries.
Once I started working, she quit her job. She told me that providing for her was the least I could do since I ruined her life, and soon I was responsible for most of the bills. I worked two, sometimes even three part time jobs when I was in high school, and since I was determined to graduate on time, I barely got any sleep. The biggest problem honestly was that my part time jobs didn't provide health insurance, and over the counter suppressants were so expensive for a teenager who was already paying the bills at home.
Missing school so often my freshman year of high school because of my rut, I decided to study hard during the summer and apply for a scholarship to an alpha only high school. My hard work paid off and I had a free ride, and I did not have to worry too much about my rut since there were only alphas and betas there. The suppressants that the school had on hand seemed to help me, and since the nurse knew my situation, she would provide me with extra when she could.
Honestly, I was lucky to be surrounded by such amazing people. I had friends at school, and my teachers were always kind. I rarely saw my mother at home, but even when we did cross paths, she was tolerable. I figured she loved me the best way that she knew how, that is until my eighteenth birthday.
"You useless piece of SHIT! Get out of my goddamn house right now. I am so tired of looking at you, breathing the same air as you, I am tired of your entire existence. I did my part and kept you alive until you were an adult. Now leave."
Those words she spoke to me six years ago were replayed in my mind on repeat. When I packed my things to leave, I took a dusty and worn-down photo album that I found as a child. I felt as though I was getting to know my real mother through this album. There were photos of her exuberantly smiling next to someone, presumably my father, however the person was cut out of the photos.
She looked so youthful and happy, full of life and kindness. My mother truly was, and still is, beautiful. But… My birth took away everything else from her. When I packed my bags and left, I crashed at one of my friends' houses until graduation a few months later. I kept working like a dog, but his parents refused to accept a single penny from me. When they saw how concerned I was about not contributing they decided to accept my offer, and I gave them $400 out of every paycheck I earned.
The day we graduated high school, I went back to their house for a celebratory dinner. They were handing out gifts to my friend for his graduation, and I was content just watching him light up with every card and present he opened. When he was done, they turned to me and handed me an envelope and a card. I opened the card first, and it was the same as the one they got their own son.
Congratulations on your graduation, Kai! You worked so hard, and though you haven't stayed with us long, we are as proud of you as we are our own son. There is not much that we can do for you but know that you will always have a place to come back to if the need ever arises. We wish you all the best in your future, and we are excited to see what kind of man you will become!
With the greatest of love,
Mr. & Mrs. Holswell
After opening the card, I opened the envelope that they had handed to me. It was $5,200 and a key I did not recognize. They had saved every penny I ever gave them since moving in and gave it back to me, and the key was to a studio apartment that they had purchased. I feel undeserving of it every time I walk through the door. The entire family passed in a drunk driving accident a year after graduation and they had named me in their will along with their son, but since he also passed everything went to me.
I did not want the rest of their family to have to worry about funeral expenses, so I used that money to cover everything completely. I gave the house to Mrs. Holswell's sister and their remaining car to Mr. Holswell's brother. Using most of the money left over I paid off my mother's home and set up an account that was linked to an auto-delivery service for groceries, all the utilities, and other needs she may have. There was around eight thousand dollars left, so I put it in a savings account for emergencies.
As time went by, I started working at Tall Tales, a bar that was about a mile away from my studio. As I worked up the ladder there, I quit my other part time jobs one by one. Eventually I became the head bartender and manager of the bar, and when the owner was thinking of selling the bar I decided to purchase it from him with the savings I had built up and a loan I was able to get from the bank.
Life hasn't been too bad, but after long days at work covering for the bar after dealing with paperwork all day it really hits hard how alone I really am. It's better that way though. Every person I get close to seems to have tragedy befall them. I ruined my mother's life, and the Holswells had their own end early.
Trying to get a reprieve from these thoughts that settled comfortably in my mind, I decided to take a shower and then clean up the apartment a little bit. I did the dishes and vacuumed the floors, changed my bed sheets and comforter. Then I watered the few plants I had. I have never been one to have a big interest in plants, but somehow throughout the years I had been gifted them in one way or another and they found new homes on my windowsills, tables, and nightstands.
After the chores were done, I plopped down on the bed and plugged my phone in to charge. 6:30am huh? I guess it was a pretty long night at work, and I did spend time cleaning up when I got home, but it's later than I was hoping it would be. After setting an alarm for 3:30pm I slid under the blanket and tried to get some rest.