I was shoved roughly down the cement staircase that led to the unfinished cellar, my room. My head bounced off of the floor, adding a bruise to the gash I got this morning for not cleaning the counter properly.
The metal door slammed shut, the sound echoing off the walls, ringing in my ears and leaving me in darkness. My weak arms pushed my body up, so I could crawl to the cardboard box that was my bed.
I sighed when I saw that the leaky pipes on the ceiling had dripped filthy water into the box, making the bottom sopping wet and moldy. Nevertheless, I climb into the only item I had ever been given as a gift, curling into a ball to bring some semblance of warmth into my frail bones.
It was times like these in the dark, moldy cellar where I wondered where my life went wrong; what I ever did to deserve this kind of treatment. I told myself on nights like these that Alpha was doing what he felt was best for me, to teach me to be a good, obedient girl.
I knew the treatment I got was different to the other pack members, I was always treated differently. Alpha said that I was special because instead of a bed I got a box, however I knew these were lies. I knew a cardboard box was not a bed, yet it was a gift in itself, since it was the only other item in the dark room besides myself - it was the only gift I had ever been deemed worthy of having other than the bucket I used as a toilet.
The lightbulb hanging from the ceiling had burnt out a few years back, ending the peaceful nights in the warm light. I had yearned for another light bulb, but I never found the courage to ask for one in fear of being beaten for asking such a question. I was undeserving of things I wanted.
I only ever got the things I needed. I got clothes on my back, which had sat there for four years, a bucket used as a toilet, a room to rest in, and a weekly ration of a tablespoon of uncooked oatmeal, just enough to keep me alive for all of my chores and beatings.
My eyes fluttered shut, the day taking its toll on me. I had a normal day, just another run of the mill day full of chores and beatings. I had been accustomed to the rigors of being beaten and then expected to work for hours, to the point were it was a norm. I expected the morning beating, the daily chores that lasted into the morning hours while juggling injuries I've sustained during beatings throughout the day.
However nothing could prepare me for when the door to the cellar opened after three hours of light sleep. I had trained myself to be a light sleeper, since a few years ago they would come into the cellar in the early morning to beat me, and if I slept hard I wouldn't hear them come in which made me vulnerable.
Heavy steps thundered down the stairs and I weakly sat up in the box, my bones cracking stiffly. The beta appeared in front of my box, and I stood up, my head bowed.
He seemed frantic, "We're having guests. Right now."
I nodded, ready to go up to do my chores, even though it was very early in the morning. He wasn't done however, "You need to go to the showers and shower, clean yourself up then dress in the clothes I will put out. You will stand in the line of unmated females just like everyone else and you won't say a word, you hear?"
"Yes, sir." I spoke in a fragile voice.
I didn't know what was going on, but I knew I had to listen to not get beaten. I followed him out of the cellar, making sure to say at least five feet behind him, since I was requested to, to not make anyone feel uncomfortable in my disgusting presence.
We stopped at the girls community locker and change room, which was luckily empty. "By the time I'm back with the clothes you better be done." He said gruffly, throwing a ratty towel at me.
YOU ARE READING
"Was your 'assumption' that spaghetti would be a good meal for my guests correct, little wolf?" My master growled, his elongated claws ripping at the small articles of clothing I'd been given to wear. "No, sir. They were not correct, therefore...