Unbalanced Omega

Chapter 1 - Shya

*THIS IS AN EXTENDED SAMPLE.*

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Knotty reading!

I'm tired of crying. I cry and cry, but nothing changes.

My tummy hurts. So does my head. And my arms. Wait, everything hurts. I don't want to hurt anymore.

Maybe if I stop crying, I can feel better, and then I won't need to cry anymore.

But it hurts, so I can't stop crying.

They won't let me out of the bed. I don't like the weird sounds around me, and the thingies in my arms are scary. I took them out before, when I woke up the first time, because I was scared and wanted them gone, but when I pulled them loose my blood went everywhere and I started crying harder. It was scary.

It doesn't matter now. They put me back in the bed, strapped me down, cleaned my arms, and put the scary things back in. I don't want them in anymore, but I don't want to see my blood again either.

Maybe if I stop crying, they'll take them out and let me get up. This bed isn't comfortable. I think it's making me hurt worse.

Maybe if he came back, everything would get better. I don't know what he looks like, but I know he's big and strong but gentle and loving.

He left, but I don't remember when. I just remember he cared for me, coaxed me to stay alive, and loves me.

I want him back. More tears leak from my eyes as the silence in my heart seems to echo in my body. I miss him.

The door opens, the soft swish a noise I've been dreading and yet waiting for. I suck in my next sob, blinking fast to try to make my eyes stop leaking. Looking toward the door, I fight a fresh wave of tears.

Everything here is either white or grey. I hate it. I miss the colorful sky, the sunlight glinting off tall buildings, and the bright clothing everyone wore. Nothing here is colorful.

A woman carries in a tray, and I swallow the sob rising in my throat. She's a vision of drabness. White tray, tights, and buttons. Grey surgical cap, dress, and shoes. Even her skin seems grey under the ugly lighting. My chest aches with the effort of holding in my sobs, but I want to get out of the bed, and I don't think they'll untie me if I'm still crying.

She doesn't even look at my face. After setting the tray on a stand by my feet, she checks the machinery surrounding me. Before I can understand what's happening, she flips the sheet off my right leg, grabs something off the tray, and shoves it against my inner ankle. A million monsters with razor sharp teeth bite into my veins.

I scream and plead, hating every second she holds the device to my skin. She ignores me, watching the monitor beside my head. When she pulls it away, there's no relief. Her cold glove rubs my leg too hard, and I squeeze my eyes closed so I don't have to see her mean face.

I'm so alone.

No one wants me.

I miss the Alpha I've never met. He was nice, but he's gone.

A memory pops up, my first one since I've woken in this scary place. My mother's conflicted eyes fill my mind, her pain and sorrow mixing with her joy and love. She carried that expression every day after my father died.

I miss her. I love her.

The restraints hold me in place, so I can't get away from the mean lady.

I do the only other thing I can.

I call out for my mommy, sad and scared, thrashing on the bed.

Deep in my heart, I know I'll never see her again.