The Alpha's Daughter

Chapter One

I chugged down the cold orange juice as fast as humanly possible. If I didn’t put the juice back in the fridge, I would soon meet the she-devil. Orange Juice was a rare treat nowadays, and I’ve learned to cherish those moments of heavenly tastastic juice.

I heard footsteps coming from one of the rooms, and quickly opened the fridge. The stank from the inside was almost unbearable, and the sight of the amount of alcohol was disgusting. We never really had any eatable food anymore, and the food we had was most likely expired.

In a swift movement, I hid the juice in the fridge, before shutting it. I turned around. As expected, my aunt was drunkenly walking towards me. I knew what would come. I always did. Clara, my aunt, was drunk half of my time with her.

And that’s a whole lot of time.

I pressed my back against the wall, deliberating if I should make a run for it. She was about five meters away from me, her state making her slower than usual. Don’t get me wrong, she’s my family and I used to love her. After the horrible incidence eleven years ago, she used to be my rock, my everything. I used to depend on her everyday. Aunt Clara loved me too, but then a ‘friend’ of her came over one night. She rarely had visitors. Heck, she rarely left the house. Her friend had blamed me for everything. For my parents death. Her friend claimed that if I didn’t exist, Clara’s sister would still be alive. My mother would still be alive.

At that time I didn’t think anyone could believe such nonsense, but I was sadly mistaken. I was ten years old when the abuse started. I was confused, because for four years, she had been my favourite person in the world. Not that I had any other family. Once my parents died, when I was six, she had supported me.

I was used to it now. Clara told me that she cared enough for me that she would rearrange my face, so it wouldn’t look like my mother’s. She was drunk, of course, and I didn’t believe her. No sane person would beat someone they loved.

Now, I’m a seventeen years old mess. My name’s Alexandra Allister, but since my parent’s death eleven years ago, I refused to call myself anything other than Lexi. Not Alex, Alexis or Alexandra. That was what my dad used to call me.

“My, my. Look at what a disgrace you’ve become,” Clara slurred, a mere step away from me.

Shoot, I must have dazed out, I panicked.

I wanted to run, but she was too strong to just let me go that easily. Even in her drunken haze was she stronger than what was good for her. Clara gripped my sore shoulder. I sucked in a sharp breath.

Yesterday, she caught me throwing away some of the alcohol. The consequence was horrendous. She made my shoulder go out of joint when she pushed me into the table. I was unlucky, and my left shoulder had collided with the piercing edge of the table. Clara was pleased when I couldn’t move under her. It had hurt too much. After what seemed like forever, Clara took me to the doctors to get it back in joint.

“Cat got your tongue?” she asked mockingly. It would always piss her off when I didn’t say anything. For the last seven years, I didn’t find it necessary to even mutter a word. It was just too much of a bother to talk sense into someone so stubbornly stupid.