Alpha's Angel

Chapter Seven

Mom would always tell me stories from her native country, proud of her Philippino heritage. She'd always whisper them to me as she tucked me into bed, even though it was only us in the room.

They were my favourite part of the day, making me rush to get into bed, unlike the rest of the children of my age who would demand for a later bed time.

"Are you ready for bed mahal ko?" she said one night, with a strained, stretched smile across her lips. I sensed straight away something was wrong, she walked into the room like a weight was pinning down her shoulders.

"Yes" I snuggled down more into my duvet. "story please."

She sighed heavily, kneeling down next to my bed. "I've got a new one to tell you." she smiled weakly, smoothing out the sheets around me. "There was a small village, whose people lived good lives. Not by choice, but in fear."

"In fear of what?" My small voice was light with curiosity, knowing full well that I'd have nightmares if I heard a scary story before bed.

"The creatures that made them. They could sense a bad soul a mile away, able to know just by being near them. They could lure a bad soul in like a siren, drawing them together."

"What would they do to them if they found out they were bad mama?" She took my hand in hers, her coffee skin contrasting against mine.

"They would move like dark angels in the night, their black feathers filling the sky, finding the perfect place to wait. They would barely have to lift a finger, leaving their lure to draw them in."

"And then what?" I my eyes widened in anticipation

"I thought we agreed we weren't telling this story tonight." I nearly jumped out of my skin, not noticing my fathers presence in the doorway. My mother tensed up, seemingly also not aware of my fathers presence.

"Althea asked for a story." She said shortly, standing up and letting my hand drop.

"I think she's tired, and a scary story like that will keep her up all night." I'd never seen my parents like this, they were usually so affectionate towards each other. But that night they seemed off, cold.

I watched as she pressed a chase kiss to my head, silently walking to the door. My fathers stern eyes watched her all the way, irritation simmering beneath them. "Good night love." He closed the door, leaving me in the dark, wondering what the end of the story was.

After that, I never got to hear the end of that story. As I grew older I found out the answer for myself.

The next night my parents stayed up late, arguing like they did last night after they left my room. I waited by the door, trying to hear a word of what they saying, but my mind couldn't put together the scraps of what I got fast enough to make sense of what they were saying.

I heard the window slide open behind me, the cold breeze swirling around my bare legs. I turned around to see a figure climbing through the small gap.

"What are you still doing awake?" My brother managed to get his tall body in, making sure to not to hit the floor too hard.

"They're fighting." I said going over to close the window, shivering from the winter air.

"You shouldn't be listening cheeky monkey." He picked me up and placed me back in bed. I held my hand out expectantly. Elias rolled his eyes, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a golden wrapped sweet. "Now keep your mouth shut and I won't tell Mum that you were up past your bed time."

"Back at you." I said placing the sweet under my pillow for the morning.

"Night Al" He winked, silently leaving the room.

I was never quite sure where Elias went at night, but he would leave the house as soon as the sun went down for as long as I could remember. Eventually I figured he wasn't meant to, but he bribed my silence with sweets, and I agreed he could use my window as a way in without being caught.

But as he got older, he stopped caring, using the front door. Coming back later and later, without any excuses. Nobody knew where he would go, but sometimes he would come back beaten and bloody, his clothes torn to shreds. Mum never seemed to care though, only telling him to be more quiet incase he woke me up. Unlike me, who would wait up for hours till he came back, my stomach in knots of worry.

But without a doubt, a golden wrapped sweet would lay on my bed side table the next morning.

I sometimes still wake up, expecting to see the golden wrapped gift waiting for me. It's funny how old habits die hard, even though those memories were from years ago.

Where was I now? A desolate runaway, with no family to account for apart from one. At this point it was hard to tell if he was even alive still. Nothing to my name apart from a busted truck and a box of clothes.

No friends. No career. No future.

It wasn't forever, I had to keep reminding myself. I just had to hold on a little bit longer, and maybe, just maybe I could settle and stop running.

Because what's the point of running if you get caught.

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Sidenote/// I'd quickly like to say Rip my liver

That is all.

Comment and vote xoxoxoxoxox

~Shay